Alone
by Draco09
Summary: James and Sarah are left alone together at the print shop while their friends go to France. Turns out, they can actually get along; Sarah's POV, SXJ D I S C O N T I N U E D
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Okay, so I just came up with this idea, and it took a while to write three chaps for it. So, yay, there's three chapters already here for you all! Oh, and I looked up Kathleen Barr (voice actor for Henri in the show) and I found out she's also a voice actor for another character in my other fav show, Dragon Booster. I find that kind of funny to figure out ^^

Btw, this is from Sarah's POV. I don't think anyone has done a story completely based on Sarah's thoughts yet so I'm happy :) Plus, I made the characters older since the show is some sort of Never Land for them. Oh, and I looked up stuff about the French Revolution and I'm not sure if I wrote about it correctly. I start explaining it right in the beginning of the chapter, so I hope what I'm writing is right (then again I don't really trust wikipedia)!

**Disclaimer **- I don't own Liberty's Kids or any of its characters. Historical characters that might be involved belong to themselves.

A L O N E

**By Draco**

_May 17, 1789_

_Dearest Mother,_

_I know the war is over, but troubles are still around us as I've feared. France has just revolted and plans on separating from an absolute monarchy, and Dr. Franklin, Henri, and Moses are heading there this morning to try and help the French with their problems. Unfortunately it'll take a few months to get to France._

_Moses has to come because he's Dr. Franklin's right-hand man, but Henri wanted to come along since it is his homeland. He cares so much for France since Lafayette came into Philadelphia to help us with the Revolutionary War. He looks up to that wonderful man like he was an older brother. _

_From the cause of all this mayhem, I have to stay here (and I choose to stay here) to get work done and get the word out about the government and its struggles here in America. Unfortunately I have to stay here with James as well… _

_Now, I know you think James is just another person there to protect me, and his is, but as protective as he is, he is also very stubborn, highly annoying, rude, disrespectful and undeniably obnoxious. You probably figured this out after many complaints about him in my earlier letters, which I can't remember at this moment._

_So, that's what's going on here in Philadelphia. I just hope James wouldn't be so much like himself during the few months we'd be here _alone_. I know it seems highly inappropriate to leave two young adults of different gender alone in a house together for the course of a few months, but trust me, mother… I doubt James or myself would have any sort of interest. _

_Please write soon!_

_Your daughter,_

_Sarah Phillips_

I looked over my work quickly to make sure the writing was clear and understandable, because I certainly didn't want mother to read a horribly written letter. I was pleased with my work and put it in an envelope to send out to my dear mother in England; and like I've said in the letter, James is staying with me through the course of our friends' absence. I hate this idea, mainly because James and I have some sort of hate relationship, yet we are best friends. This confuses me beyond no end, but at least we get the word out about the history that is being made right before our eyes.

I so terribly wish James would grow up; you'd think by his twenties he'd learn to act like a gentleman. Turns out, he hasn't, which I'm not surprised by. He still insults me and imitates my British accent when I'm trying to correct him for his antics and acts immature as usual. This is going to be a long, _long_, few months.

After sending out my letter I met my friends by the docks to say goodbye to them all and wish them luck on their voyage.

"We'll soon return, Sarah," Moses explained. "America has an alliance with France, so we even might get back early."

"If we can help them, that is," said Henri, whom was now becoming a young man. Still, as long as he's been tutored on how to speak and write in English, I can still hear that French accent in his tone. "They seemed pretty upset when they revolted."

"I bet everything will turn out all right," said James. "Besides, you can understand them, right, Henri?"

"Of course! I'm French, aren't I?" said he with his accent thickening, as if it was obvious.

"French you are, yet you'll still be a Patriot," I said. Henri smiled at this remark.

The boat soon arrived and our friends boarded the ship, and once it headed out towards the sea I knew that the next few months were going to be complete torture. Confused? Well, think about it for a moment. We're talking about _James Hiller _here. He's going to annoy me so much that I'll pull out my own hair, and we're most likely going to argue about the most ridiculous things. Funny… we're mature adults yet we still argue like we did as children.

"So… what do we do now?" James asked me, as if there was no work to do whatsoever.

"We're going back to the print shop to finish our paper, remember?" I said. "You know… the one we're doing _together_."

"No… all I know is that I'm all alone with _you_, and that we're going to have so much fun!" he said, a sly grin on his face. I knew he was being sarcastic. I started walking back to the print shop, trying to ignore his idiocy.

He started after me. "What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Since when did he ever care? "Nothing… why do you ask?"

"You seem so… troubled…" James said, eyeing me curiously.

I didn't answer back, mainly because his feelings would most likely be hurt. The truth was that I didn't want to be alone with him for months on end while Ben, Henri and Moses were gone. It seemed too weird.

"It has something to do with me, doesn't it?"

How can he do that? He can read my like a book! This tells me I can't hide any secrets from him, since he'll figure them out before I can voice them.

"It's a possibility…" I said, moving quickly ahead of him to open the door to the print shop. Its official… he figured it out already. He almost looked offended.

"Now wait just a darn minute!" he protested. "You don't want to be here alone with me, do you?" Well, he took the cake right there. "You'd rather be in England sipping tea and talking with your British Tory friends…" Okay, _now_ he was starting to mock me again, mainly because he was using his infamous sarcasm nearing the end of his statement.

"Well, I clearly don't want to be alone with an American with no sympathy for anyone or anything," I replied, rather peevishly. "Oh, and did I mention that your head gets larger everyday?"

He stared at me dumbfounded for a moment before protesting, as if what I said was completely out of my nature. Well, he certainly doesn't know me very well, does he?

"How could you say that? I'm not vain!" James said.

"Sure… tell that to the man that lost my locket, putting me in danger in every way possible, letting me watch the war at Lexington and Concord and almost getting shot, and Tom's death! And all that time you didn't care about anything but yourself, writing down the notes to get into the newspaper and get all the glory."

James looked like he wanted to rip my head off, but of course he wouldn't do that to a lady. As uncivilized and rebellious as he was he wouldn't dare harm me.

"Well, you know what Sarah? That's kinda what I thought about you when you showed your true colors. It was always about you, wasn't it? You were all, 'Oh, this is _so_ uncivilized! America is _so_ dangerous! Why do _I_ have to go through this?'." James smirked triumphantly, but I wasn't about to lose this battle, no matter how annoying it was when he imitated my British accent.

"'That's _kind of_ what I thought about you'…" I said smartly. "Honestly James; even on the verge of becoming an adult --and as a _journalist_-- you still lack proper grammar skills!" After standing there arguing with him for the past five minutes I opened the door to the print shop as if I was dramatically walking away from the situation. I win!

James was more than irritated at this moment, and he so badly wanted to hurt me, I could tell. It felt so good to see him so angry, mainly because I won this round… for now.

I heard the floorboards creek as James started upstairs. Just where did he think he was going? We had a lot of work to do and he just walks away from it?

"Why are you going upstairs, James? We have work to finish!" I asked.

He turned around after walking halfway up the stairs. The expression on his face made me swell with pride, because he looked _very _angry. I was loving this!

"Well, Sarah," he said calmly, his tone light, "you don't seem to want me around since you completely dislike me, so I'm going upstairs so you can enjoy your precious moments alone without _me_." As he was saying this, his tone began rising. "Have a marvelous day, Ms. Phillips!" He stormed up the stairs, leaving me with a damaged ego.

"God-damn woman…" I heard James mumble to himself as he went upstairs. I so badly wanted to scold him for his improper language, but then again he wouldn't care both in this situation and in public.

As much as I was loving his anger (vengeance from all the things he's done to me), I began to feel… guilty? I don't know why, but I do. I know I'll regret it, but I felt as if I've been too hard on him. He almost seemed distressed because I disliked him for his annoying behavior. But honestly, who could blame me?

What was wrong with him? He's never been upset over something like this. I swear I saw a hint of sadness in his pastel blue eyes. I decided to myself that I should go talk with him.

--

I walked up the stairs and stood in front of James's door nervously. I know he'll be very angry with me, but I had to deal with it. We had to get along or else nothing would get done.

I knocked on the door softly; so softly, I don't know if he even heard it.

"Leave me alone, Sarah!"

Yep, he heard it.

"I just want to talk with you… Please let me in," I said, almost pleading.

"You've done enough talking for one day!"

"I wanted to apologize…"

"Apologize? For what?" He sounded like I never apologized to those I cared about… like I was ignorant to what they were feeling.

"I'm not leaving until I can apologize," I said, rather stubbornly. "I want to get along with you, James, just because we need to work together! If we don't this print shop would probably be out of business by the time Henri, Moses and Dr. Franklin get back from France. Now let me in or I'll break the door down!"

Silence.

Then, I heard footsteps traveling from across the room, and the door swung open. I walked in, rather uncomfortably. It was weird being in James's room, because I felt like I was intruding on his personal property.

He shut the door, and the room was silent once again. He broke the silence with a rude comment.

"Well, are you going to say something or what?"

I hung my head, embarrassed. This was harder than I thought it would be.

"Well… um… I just wanted to apologize from the way I acted… and I felt really bad afterwards because of how you felt." There, the deed was done. That wasn't so hard.

"Hmm… not very convincing…"

I spoke too soon.

"…I realized that you felt unwanted and useless, and that I was sort of being a bit of a jerk. I'm really sorry for the things I said and I didn't expect you to act like this. I thought you would take it as some sort of play-fight like you usually do. I truly am sorry, James." My voice sounded flat, but at least I apologized.

"Now _that's_ convincing."

I smiled, expecting someone in the likes of him to say something similar to that. I still felt really foolish that we already started a fight, and it has barely been a few hours since the ship disembarked.

Suddenly, James put his arms around me, gently embracing me into a hug. This behavior was strange, especially for James. Why on heaven and earth was he hugging me? Was it something I said?

We stood there for what felt like an eternity. It was rather comfortable standing in his arms… It was warm and soothing, feeling his heart beat. I was actually enjoying this experience. Maybe James is finally growing up? He's a late bloomer, but at least he's learning.

He separated from me, and our eyes were locked, and we were staring at each other for a few moments until James spoke with a smile on his face. Our faces were closer then what I was comfortable with.

"I accept your apology, Ms. Phillips…" he said quietly. He walked out of the room, and I saw that his face was beaming with pride. He was up to something, but I didn't know what.

For some strange reason I was blushing all shades of red, but I quickly shook it off and followed him downstairs to finish the paper.

--

A few weeks went by since James and I were left alone, and so far things were actually turning out alright after all. James is acting so strange, and he's being _kind_. He's suddenly treating me with more respect and we seem to be getting along more than usual.

Something was wrong…

Something was definitely wrong…

Since when did James bother to act kind to me? Was it when he hugged me weeks before? Is he going through some sort of faze? He better be. It's not like I want him to be his usual self, but all of a sudden out of the blue he was acting like this, and I wanted to bring him down to earth where the _real_ James was.

It was another early morning in Philadelphia; bright, sunny, calm and peaceful. I could smell the rain from the thunder storm last night, and I can still feel its humidity. It rained extremely hard the other night, enough to keep both James and I awake, and usually James sleeps through it. Even in my twenties I can't get over that loud _BOOM!_ of the thunder.

I was checking the mail to see if my mother sent a letter back. Usually after a few weeks a new letter comes in because it takes a while for the message to be sent. I looked in the mail box to find that there indeed was a letter from my mother. Eager, I began to open it. I always awaited my mother's messages with enthusiasm.

I opened the letter and began reading the cursive writing my mother always wrote in. It was written in the beginning of the month when it was received, and it was in the middle of June right now. But as I read, mother's words sounded paranoid:

_June 2, 1789_

_Dear Sarah,_

_I am shocked to hear that you are being left alone with a boy your own age! Although James is good at protecting you I can't trust him around you for reasons I hope you understand._

_And I am also horrified to believe that Dr. Franklin would allow this! Surely you children are growing up so fast, and my thought of you two being left behind on an important trip to France is just inappropriate. With you two being alone, I swear to the Lord that you will be involved in mature things. I cannot allow this at all, my dear._

_As much as I want you to find a suitor, this boy you are with isn't the correct kind. I know you're upset, Sarah, but that's the way society is. Please don't be angry with me, because I know love is a wonderful thing, but this clearly upsets me._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Caring Mother_

I stood there, looking at the letter stupidly with my mouth slightly ajar. She thought _I_ was _together _with _James Hiller_?! What on earth was she thinking? We were NEVER together (and let's hope it stays that way)! Sometimes mother can be a bit insane about these things. Whenever I had a relationship with someone she would step in and make more than enough room for her to interfere.

And yes, I agree that being alone with James is a bit… awkward… but it's the only thing Dr. Franklin could do. We weren't involved in the French Revolution (come to think of it, neither were they), so we had to stay here. Would you think Dr. Franklin would get some sort of Babysitter for us? No, of course not.

I saw that there were other things written below the paper. Great, there's MORE:

_P.S: By the way, I'm coming to America to visit you two and keep a FIRM WATCH on you and James. I'm sorry, but I can't allow this in the least, and I'll be here in less than a month if I hurry. See you soon!_

Okay, now this got a whole lot worse.

Did she have to be so paranoid about me in a relationship? Obviously I wasn't with James, but can't she just be a _little_ flexible?

I have a good feeling that this isn't going to turn out pretty…

**A/N: **Whew! That's a long chapter. Er… at least to me ^^' It took five days to write! I'll have the second chap up soon, so stay tuned! :)

Now go down below and click that little bitty button… yeah… that's it… keep moving that mousey :3 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Okay, here's the next chapter, and I have to admit that writing fanfiction for Liberty's Kids is FUN! :) Nobody really writes for it, which I don't get, but at least I'm having some enjoyment out of it.

"WHAT?!"

James sounded almost terrified. Come to think of it, I believe he was.

"You're _mother_ is coming?"

"Unfortunately, yes…" I sighed.

"This isn't good," he said. "Why would she think we're in some sort of relationship?"

"Because she's probably been to one too many pubs, that's why," I replied. "She thinks we're going to do some 'mature things' while we're here alone with each other. Can you believe that?"

"Well…" James said, pretending to think. I realized what he was trying to do to make me understand.

_SLAP!_

"You are so disgusting!" I said at him, getting right in his face to show that I was furious. I walked upstairs to wallow in pity because once my mother comes to the print shop I know my life will be over.

As I walked away, James was rubbing his reddened cheek. "God-damn woman…"

I really hated it when he swore. I don't mean to be a stick in the mud all the time but I just want to keep things in the straight and narrow. Too bad James wants everything crooked and farther apart. He just never learns…

Later that night, I finally came down from my room, feeling embarrassed that my mother was coming in less than a month to scold me and do whatever she can to humiliate me in front of James, who would probably make fun of me later for it.

James looked up from his dinner as he saw me walk towards the table with my meal and sat down across from him. He kept glancing at me curiously, as if he was concerned with my well-being. But, then again, he was sly man. He could be doing that just so I can think he was concerned for me, leading to something that would make me look like a fool. Oh great, Now I'm being the paranoid one.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," I said, after what felt like an eternity of silence.

"It isn't the first time…" he grinned. _Really_? Boy, I'm surprised.

"What do you mean?" I had to ask.

"Well, you've seen me in relationships before, right?" said James. I nodded. "Turns out I end up getting slapped because the women I once got together with were a bunch of sensitive ninnies that couldn't take a joke."

Well, there's my question solved. Of course he'd tell some sort of dumb joke that lead to the end of the relationship. Then again, I was a sensitive ninny as well. I would cry about the silliest things.

"I'm a sensitive ninny, too, you know," I said.

He looked at me and soon that devious smile brightened up his face. "Nah… Sarah Phillips isn't a big cry baby. She's a strong, independent woman with that kind of spark in her that goes off like some sort of firecracker. She doesn't take any nonsense from anyone… including myself…"

I stared at him impassively for a few moments before returning to my cold food in front of me. He was using some very colorful vocabulary to describe me… which was surprisingly charming. Was he… trying to flatter me? He was doing a good job. I had to make sure.

"Is that a good thing?" I questioned.

"Well, yes," he answered, quite simply. "There aren't a lot of women like you out there. They don't stand up for what's right. They sit back and let the big bad men run their lives and control what they think and feel."

I was right; he _was_ trying to flatter me.

I chuckled at his remark. "I don't think all men are bad, James."

"That's what you seem to think of me."

I paused, thinking. Does he really think I hate him to a point that I wouldn't care about him? "Well… at times I really just want to strangle you, but I can deal with it. I've been going through it since I came here."

He said nothing and finished his meal. Due to this interesting conversation we had I lost my appetite. I might as well save it for tomorrow. Once I put the food away I began yawning, checking the clock. It was late, and a time for me to go to sleep.

James and I walked upstairs to head to our bedrooms, and we were both tired from the day. Everyone loved our paper, and we ran around town just to search for a new and better story. But, no luck was with us for the moment.

"'Night, Sarah," said James.

"_Goodnight_, James," I smiled jokingly.

"Watch it, now… I know where you sleep," he said, smiling. I smiled back at him and went into my bedroom to have a good sleep. Tonight was actually a good night… And James is smiling a lot more around me…

--

It's been almost a month, and as much as I disliked it, my mother was planning on coming tonight, possibly tomorrow morning if the ship is late. I begged to the Lord that the ship would run a _week _late.

Because my mother is of the higher class, I have to look nice or else she'd keep looking at me strangely. I wanted to wear my favorite dress, the one I've been wearing throughout my stay in America, but I couldn't because of my social standing. Great… time for a corset.

I detest corsets. They wrap tightly around your waist to the point where you can't breathe properly. It is so irritating! Sometimes I wish women didn't have to look a certain way, so we can have some rights, too. But, I don't think that is going to change much.

I wore a nice blue gown with my hair worn down, and as always James's locket was still around my neck. I would never take it off, because as immature as he was as a fourteen-year-old, that act of kindness was something I would never forget.

Plus, by pure force, James had to look nice as well. If he wore the things he usually did, then my mother would be scolding him. I clearly didn't want that to happen, so I told him to make himself presentable. And as always James likes to protest because he just _loves_ being difficult.

I came out of my bedroom with my hair combed and my curls getting in my face constantly. Even if I pulled a strand behind my ears, the curl would just come right back in front of my face. It was very irritating, and that's why my hair was in a pony tail all the time. I waited for James to come out, which was surprising because I'm usually the one to take the longest.

After about five minutes of waiting, James finally emerged from his room, looking better than he usually did. As always his hair was pulled back, yet he was wearing a dark brownish suit vest with the usual dress pants. It was better than what he usually wore, not that it was extremely horrible to look at, but that's all that mattered. Actually, he looked quite sharp.

"You look better than you ever have," I said, grinning at him, trying to ease the pressure he must be under. Even though he knew I was talking to him, he ignored me and kept staring at me, as if he didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah… you too…" he spoke. I began blushing again, and I knew I was being flattered. Oddly enough I was softening my usual strict behavior with him.

"We should go down and await my mother…" I sighed as he started following me down the stairs.

"Yeah, what a party this is going to be…" he rolled his eyes.

"Now, James, don't be rude or else you'll be scolded and then we'll both look bad," I said to him.

"Ah, yes, Sarah's wonderful nagging…" he said. "Such music to my ears."

I shushed him quickly when I heard the door creek open. Mother looked hurried and bit out of place, but she was able to regain her act. She saw me and started running towards me, embracing me into a back-breaking hug.

"Sarah!" she cried. "Oh, I'm so sorry I'm a little late! That stupid boat won't hurry! How are you two? Have any… issues?"

"Um… no…" I replied, a bit freaked out by how much this situation was driving my mother to insanity.

"I'm here to stay until your friends return from France, just so you two won't do anything…" my mother said, eyeing James as a warning. James didn't make eye contact.

"Look, mother, we aren't together--"

"And we're not in a relationship!" James budged in, interrupting me. "We're just good friends, and I'm here to protect her and take care of her. I've been doing this job for a long, long time."

"Well I've been doing it since the day she was born," my mother reported flatly, brushing past him. I could tell mother didn't like him very much. She appreciated the things he's done, but she still is suspicious of us being together. Almost instantly she started planning dinner, since she was so excited about being at the print shop to watch us like a hawk stalking a mouse.

"What a lovely woman," James whispered to me in his sarcastic voice. As much as I thought it was funny, I quickly replied to his nonsense.

"James, please don't," I whispered back.

"She's being mean to me, why should I care?" James retorted.

"Because she's higher in society, and if you don't respect her, she can do some horrible things to you, trust me."

"Wouldn't you do horrible things to me, then?" James asked with his face as close as the last time he's done it.

I didn't answer, but before I could think of a reply, mother said while she searched through the cabinets, "What are you two talking about, dear?"

"Nothing, mother, just… newspaper… things…" I quickly said.

"Are you sure it's not marriage?" mother asked, talking me by surprise. James looked even more surprised then I did.

"Mother, please! We're not intimate with each other!" I said loudly.

"Sarah, don't talk so loud," mother scolded me. I was beginning to see how I got my bossy side to me. I sighed, knowing that no matter how much I may fight, I'll never win against my mother.

"We should do something while dinner is cooking," James suggested. Great, now I'm the fool who isn't really thinking. Thank god James has some sort of idea.

"Good idea!" mother chirped. "We should dance!"

I glanced with my eyes up at James, who looked a bit paler. _Please_ don't tell me he can't dance…! Maybe he was just nervous, that's all. Besides, dancing involved the closeness of two bodies.

Mother happened to bring some catchy music with her so we could feel the rhythm. I liked dancing like that instead of the boring step-by-step type dances that involved no excitement whatsoever.

As the music started, mother tended occasionally to dinner cooking while glancing over at us to see what we were up to. Since when did she become such a stalker?

I felt a touch on my hand. James held it and looked at me, saying, "Care for a dance, Sarah?" I was glad he wasn't like the other pompous men who always take my hand and kiss it in a polite way. After a while it gets old.

I was a bit unsure about his request since mother was staring at us the whole time, but why not? What could happen, really?

"Sure," I said. At first James lead me through some basic dancing steps, but as the music turned up, he started spinning me in all sorts of directions, and the whole time I was actually enjoying it.

At a slower pace in the music, I asked quietly, "Since when did you learn how to dance, Mr. Hiller?" I smiled smugly.

"Oh… you know… when you have nothing else to do, you might as well learn something new," he smiled. As if on cue, the music went up again, and James and I began an endless motion of twists and turns… and I was having a blast. Basically all James was doing was making me laugh and giggle the whole time from the excitement of the many dance moves. I haven't had this much fun since I was a little girl…

Mother watched speechlessly as we both enjoyed our dance, and she noted the amount of laughing we were doing. It was just so fun dancing with him! I never knew he could dance, why in the world didn't he tell me?

Suddenly, I stumbled slightly, which turned into a trip, which then turned into a fall. I must have stumbled on something on the floor (I didn't know what it was), and unfortunately I dragged James down with me.

Mother gasped at our fall, hurrying over to see if we were alright.

"Sarah, James, are you okay?" she said, worry in her voice.

But we certainly weren't hurt at all, we were laughing hysterically! We were laughing at our own clumsiness, and it felt good to have a good time. James was on top of me, laughing his head off, but mother quickly got him off me, noticing how close we were.

I got myself off the floor, still stifling a laugh.

"Now, you two get a hold of yourselves!" mother said, though we still weren't taking her seriously. There were still grins on our faces, and we just couldn't get over the excitement. "Honestly, children, please calm down."

After regaining some control, I said, "Sorry, mother. I was just having some fun…"

"Well, dinner is ready, so come and get it," said mother, setting the table. James and I glanced at each other and smiled again, and we could barley contain ourselves.

"That was fun," James said to me, smiling widely.

"I want to do it again sometime," I told him.

"I know we will," he said. He was adding some dramatic quotes to the end of our conversations, and it was slightly disturbing. Not knowing why he was doing this was eating me alive, and I can't take much more of it.

--

We eventually sat down for dinner, while mother talked mostly of the society of England to James and how much it's different from America. James looked like he was going to fall asleep. I've heard it before, so of course I was on the verge of sleep as well.

She changed the subject, at last, "So, were you two flirting while you were dancing? You seemed to be laughing an awful lot."

"Well, it was so much fun, mother!" I said excitedly. "The way he was swinging me and pulling me in with these twists and turns were highly enjoyable."

James swelled with pride, knowing that he made me happy. However, mother still interrogated.

"So, you dance?" she asked him, as if someone in the likes of him wouldn't know how.

"Well, I haven't been dancing long, but I do know a couple steps," he replied.

"So, you just made up the steps you just did with Sarah?"

"Basically, yes, and it was a great time," James said.

Mother didn't seem extremely pleased. "I don't think you should make up the steps in a dance; you'll look silly in the eyes of others."

"Who cares? Isn't it all about having fun?" he said.

"Yes, but we also want to look… sane," said mother stiffly.

"But being _in_sane is what makes it interesting," I said happily.

"Indeed," agreed James.

Mother looked surprised at me. "Sarah, I can't believe you're thinking like that! You must act proper and do the right things, like you always have. It's the way of the world."

"It isn't always, mother," I tried to explain, although mother looked impatient. "Sometimes you just have to let go of those things and just… enjoy yourself, and not care what anyone else thinks. I discovered that…" I saw James grin warmly at me, possibly proud of me of my decision.

Mother kept staring at me oddly, but said, "Sarah, what has gotten into you? You're… different."

"And I like to be," I told her.

"No, you don't, it's because of that boy," she said, pointing to James.

"What did I do _now_?" James asked irritably. I could tell his temper was rising in temperature. He looked annoyed. I pleaded to God that he wouldn't explode.

"You seemed to have changed my daughter's way of thinking," said my mother accusingly. "The reason to why she's changing is because she's spending time with you."

"How am I changing her? I was just having fun with her, like I've always tried to do. How is that such a bad thing?"

Mother couldn't seem to come up with a good explanation, but instead she decided to scold, in which she did best. "I… I just can't let my daughter change all because of a man, especially not from a commoner."

"Hey! Who says I am?" James said, taking great offense.

"King George, that's who," she said.

"Well, tell him I'm not dirt he can just walk all over, because I am a citizen with rights, and I have the power to do whatever I want, regardless to what the king ever says!" He folded his arms and stood erectly, showing that there was nothing going past his thick head.

Mother gaped at him at his rebellious words, saying, "Get upstairs… NOW." James stood there confused. Like James was going to listen! She started saying her words more firmly. "**NOW**." Not wanting to deal with an angry mother, James hurried upstairs, giving me a passing glance.

Suddenly things turned from good, to bad, to even worse… And I was beginning to have so much fun.

"Mother, why would you do that?" I asked her, worried for James's feelings. "He's just--"

"--a rebel, that's what he is! He needs to learn to keep his mouth shut in the name of the king, no matter what."

"He was only voicing his opinion," I said quietly.

"I don't care! I still don't want you getting together with that boy, Sarah. He has trouble written all over him." I wanted to protest, but she told me to go upstairs to my bedroom, which I found quite odd to say since I am past my childhood years. But, I did what I was told because I was too polite for my own good.

I walked up the stairs sadly, seeing James no where in sight. He was probably in his room, feeling so upset with himself. It wasn't his fault, it truly wasn't. He just likes to voice what he feels, and I respect that about him. Unfortunately it gets him into more than enough trouble.

Feeling sympathy for him, I walked in front of his door and stood there, trying to find the right words to say. I knocked on the door.

"Yes?" was the answer.

I still stood there, not knowing what to say. With my mother being so bossy, I didn't know what to say anymore.

"You have alcohol?"

"You're mom still here?"

"Yes."

"Get in."

**A/N: **Holy crap I finished this in one day! That is truly amazing! I guess I'm going to finish this after all :3 Stay tuned! I really like this story!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Wow, chapter 3 is already getting finished! This story sure is getting done much faster than my other story, which took almost a month. I'm only on chapter 3 and it's been a week! Squee, I'm so happy 8D

The rating goes up slightly in this chapter due to some… er… _sexual _moments in here. You'll figure out why. No, there's no nudity you pervs XD lol enjoy!

I suddenly found myself in bed by early morning, but I could remember everything from the other night. It was a strange experience, especially since it was with my best friend.

It began last night when I entered his bedroom after mother's head practically exploded from our 'terrible' behavior. I saw James's discouraged face, knowing that he was beaten down by mother's insults. Usually this wasn't like him. He'd usually be persistent and think of some sort of plan to get back at my mother or something along those devious lines. But, he didn't. He gave up… too quickly in my case.

He was sitting on his bed with what appears to be wine bottles. Was he trying to drink his pain away? It appeared not, he didn't look tipsy. This situation wasn't near as painful then what other people go through. I sat down beside him.

"James… are you alright?" I asked.

"Sure…" he replied flatly.

I was quiet for the moment, thinking of possible things, or questions, to say. He looked so despondent I just had to think of something to cheer him up. Nothing came to mind, however.

"What's with all the wine bottles?" I asked.

He looked at me for the first time since I came in there. "I don't know… found them some place and thought I might have a drink before bed."

I was appalled. "Wine… before bed?"

"Why not?" I didn't answer. It didn't seem to matter whether I answered or not. He opened the bottle of wine and took a sip, handing it to me, curious if I wanted some as well.

"Thanks," I said, taking the bottle and took a surprisingly big gulp. I've had these wines before, but I never considered drinking it unwisely. That didn't seem to matter right now. I handed the bottle back to him.

James finally spoke of something. "I'm sorry for what I did downstairs."

"James, you didn't do anything wrong," I said, knowing he would want to apologize. "Mother is just being unpredictable. She basically dislikes you because I've been alone with you for at least a month and for your social class, which I found quite low to consider."

"You're telling me…" he said, taking another sip of the wine. "But I still feel so terrible, like I made you unhappy… and I don't want you to be like that."

I smiled. "James, I'm alright. I'm a bit put down about the situation down stairs, but I'll be okay."

"No, you won't," James protested. "Tomorrow is going to be the exact same thing when your mother yells and interrogates us like criminals, and eventually she'll kick me out or send you back to England! I don't want that to happen to you, Sarah. You belong here in America… with Henri, Moses, Dr. Franklin and me."

I stared at him with concern written all over my face, and he didn't stop there.

"Your mom is going to keep us separated until she's sure we aren't together. I'm tired of trying to deal with that woman and we both know well that we want her gone! It's only been one night but I can't take it anymore!" During his rage he's been taking more and more sips of his wine, and I was getting worried. I didn't want him to lose himself… although he was already starting to slip away. "I just can't do it…"

I tried comforting him, putting my arms around him in a gentle hug, hoping it would help him. "Don't leave me." What he said was an order, and I obeyed.

"I know it's hard to deal with, but we'll make it through it, James," I told him. "Don't lose hope. Mother will be gone once our friends return from France."

"But that's a long time from now," he said, looking at me with his eyes still filled with anger. He stood up, breaking away from the embrace and standing in front of me. "And I can't take it now! We need to get rid of your mom; send her back to England or something!"

I stood up and looked at him, noticing how tall he was compared to me. He's certainly grown since I met him. "James, listen to me. We can't convince mother to leave, because if we try she'll be even angrier with us. Let's just go with it and hope for the best. It's the best we can do, and it'll only be for a few more months."

"I'm not going to listen to that woman any longer, Sarah, and I really want her gone!" Again he protested, and this time he looked pretty serious. Though he towered over me, I wasn't afraid.

"James, don't be like this," I said.

All he did was sit back down on the bed, drinking the wine down some more. He needed to stop abusing the drug or else it'll start affecting him. No matter how hard I tried, he wouldn't listen to any of my advice.

And as unbelievable as it sounded, I joined him. I was miserable as it is, and seeing James in this state was something I couldn't afford to see. So, we both drank what was left, the drug making us feel relaxed and somewhat giddy.

This was unlike me, and I don't know why I joined him, but I didn't care. I was feeling hyper and happy and the problem I once had disappeared as I continued to drink it away. It was most unladylike for someone in the likes of me.

From out of nowhere James started embracing me, holding me tightly and almost instantly connected lips. Of course I was drunk, so all I did was join him, sensing a warm, tingly feeling in my stomach as his kissing got serious. It felt wonderful, being here with him and enjoying his company, his arms around me as he lay on top of me on the bed.

It was almost instinct when I started taking his clothes off, as well as him untying my corset and removing my dress. For some reason we couldn't control what we were doing, and the more we continued to kiss and grasp each other the more I wanted to stay. His upper body was revealed, but his pants remained on while I was in my underwear. We continued our activity, and I couldn't help but feel so… alive.

I was practically feeding off the attention he was giving me, as if it was what I always wanted. We were both breathing hard, our hearts racing; climbing all over each other just to feel this sudden thrill.

"You're so beautiful…" I heard him say while he took a breath, and it wasn't surprising since he was intoxicated. "You've always been this lovely since I've known you…" Again he began kissing me, trailing his lips down my face and down my neck. "I love you, Sarah…" he whispered in my ear.

All I wanted at that time due to my drunken state was the hormonal thrill, but hearing those words escape his mouth… It was practically mind blowing. Did he really think that about me? Is that why he acts the way he does? I didn't know, and again I wanted to figure him out.

We eventually fell asleep, because all I remember was him all over me and then the memory was no more. So, here I was, in bed, seeing him next to me, still half naked.

And here _I_ was, almost naked. Mother will be enraged. If she finds out what we did last night then our lives will really be over. I was partly dizzy, but I was used to such wines since I've drunk many different kinds at parties back in England. Unfortunately, James wasn't.

I looked beside me to see James out of bed, puking in a bucket next to his desk. I wasn't surprised he was having a hangover; he rarely drinks, and his consumption was surprisingly quite heavy.

I sat up in bed, covering my chest with the blankets and asked him, "James, are you going to be okay?"

After he managed to stop throwing up for the moment, he said with a groggily voice, "Yeah… Yeah, I'm okay… even though I've been over this bucket for almost thirty minutes."

Thankfully after about five minutes James felt slightly better, climbing back into bed with me in hopes of getting some sleep. Besides, he must have been exhausted. I so badly wanted to ask him questions about the night before, wondering if he might remember, but he didn't look like he wanted to talk.

I questioned him anyway. "James…?"

"Yeah…?" he replied, faintly.

"Do… you remember what happened the other night?"

James stiffened slightly, it appeared, but he turned around and sat up weakly. "A little bit… why?"

"Well… you said some things."

He looked bewildered. "What kind of things?"

I swallowed, wondering if he might remember or not… or if he was confessing something I should have known a long time ago.

I answered, "You… you said that you loved me."

He stared at me for the longest minute I've ever spent waiting for a reply. He looked nervous… maybe a bit embarrassed.

"Oh…?" he said finally.

"Yes…" I said awkwardly. "… and that you thought I was beautiful."

Again he stiffened. "Is that so…?"

I nodded.

Suddenly it got very quiet, and all I heard was a few birds singing outside. I just realized it was dawn.

"I really must have been intoxicated, huh?" he smiled.

What? He took it as some sort of joke? But, I didn't want to talk about it all too much, so I went along with it.

"Yes… you were just 'out there'," I faked a smile. "You were just a little crazy." He smiled back, the same smile he's always given me. I'm starting to like that smile.

Suddenly, the door opened, and my mother walked in rather casually.

"As much as I dislike you, James, I--" She began. She suddenly gasped at us from seeing me in bed with him. I think the fact that we were both half naked was why she was so surprised. Just when I thought she wasn't going to find out…

"Sarah… what… how… _why_?" my mother stammered.

"Mother… listen, I can explain," I tried saying, but mother didn't even bother to listen. She was angry enough and there was nothing that could convince her to listen to my pleading.

"Oh, I bet you can explain, dear," mother said, her voice icy. "Just when I was saying the other night that I don't want any physical contact with you two, you go behind my back and do it anyway!"

"Mother, please, there's a logical explanation for this!" I said. "It was an accident!"

"Oh, sure, of _course_ it was!" mother said sarcastically. "You just _accidentally_ got in bed with this rebel."

"No, really, it--"

"Never mind, just get dressed and put on a decent gown!" mother said, giving up the fight.

By covering myself with the dress I'd worn last night, I started walking towards the door to go to my bedroom.

On the way out, I heard mother snap at James, "Put a shirt on!" James obeyed her orders with no protest and quickly got out of the room, looking at me apologetically before I went into my bedroom to get changed.

I found a nice gown that didn't involve a corset, and put it on. As always these gowns were very uncomfortable, but I had to put them on so mother wouldn't pop a blood vessel. I hated that I wasn't being my boisterous self, when I actually stood up for what I believed in. Unfortunately fear has caused me to shy away.

I got out of my room to see James sitting on the floor waiting for me, looking rather sickly. He looked like he was struggling to not puke.

"You look like you need some rest," I told him.

"I don't think anyone cares right now…" he said.

"How are you feeling?" I had to know.

"My head is killing me and I feel like I'm going to throw up…" he explained. I felt so bad about this. I should have tried harder to stop his indulgence, but I didn't, and now he paid the price.

"I think you need to get in bed, James. You look terrible," I said to him, bending down to his level.

"You certainly don't look terrible," he said with a smile, making me flush. What is it with me and my reactions to his charisma?

"Come on, I need to get you up," I said, trying to stand him up. Thankfully he was able to get up with little help from me, but he looked disoriented, putting a hand to his head. Leaning on the wall for support, I stood by him to make sure he could walk properly without falling.

He suddenly stiffened, swallowing, looking scared. I knew by his body language that he was going to throw up again. Quickly, I grabbed the bucket from the other room and placed it next to him. He dropped to his knees and put his head over the bucket, throwing up once more. Beads of sweat were all over his face, and I felt so helpless by watching him suffer. But there was nothing I could do but watch.

"What's going on up here?" mother questioned, walking upstairs. She saw James on the floor with the bucket under him, and her face soon was filled with concern. "Sarah? What's wrong with him?"

I looked at her, never knowing that she would bother to care, and said, "I'll tell you later, just help me get him in bed, please."

It took some time, but James was finally in bed where he finally got some sleep, closing his eyes and feeling the warm covers over him. "I'll meet you downstairs in a moment, mother," I said to her.

She nodded and started walking downstairs to wait for me. I looked back at James when she was gone and sat down on the bed while he was dormant. He looked so miserable and defeated… I never knew it would take something so little to beat him down. As stubborn as he was, this beat him compared to everything else that were much harder situations than this.

"Sarah…?" he asked quietly.

"Yes?" I said, whispering.

"I feel really warm, could you help take my shirt off?" he said, though his eyes were still closed and he wasn't moving. Gingerly, I pulled the shirt off him while he sat up slightly to see that he indeed was warm, sweat glistening all over him. I felt his back and his temperature was sky high, another side affect to the hangover: elevated body temperature. I bet the next time I feel him he'd be much colder.

During the whole time I was feeling his back James seemed calm and relaxed despite all the torture he's already been through. Strangely he's been different during our time alone in the print shop (besides the fact that mother was here due to her own discretion), and I began to question why he's been like this.

The thoughts of what he said during our evening last night were giving me some sort of nagging clue that I didn't want to consider. The fact that he might actually be in love with me was just horrifying to picture. It's not that I wasn't flattered, but I just don't think it would be good to deal with while my mother was here. But then again he was drunk, and it might have been some sort of delirious thought he came up with.

"Sarah, are you coming, dear?" my mother called from downstairs.

"I'm coming!" I said, even though I was taking my leisurely time. I turned to James. "Try to get some rest, James, you really need it."

"I'll be fine, Sarah, don't worry about me," he said.

"That's sort of hard when I know you're suffering," I said quietly. I was surprised to hear myself say that. I myself was acting strange.

James obviously heard me, because his smile was once again forming on his face. I loved his smile… "You care too much," he grunted jokingly. I snorted at his remark.

Suddenly, surprisingly, he took my hand and gave it a light squeeze, and then putting my hand up to his lips to give it a gentle kiss on the palm. The same tingly feeling I felt last night began to annoy my stomach again. Pulling my hand gently away, I stood up and started walking out the door as James started closing his eyes to get some rest.

My thoughts began racing so quickly that I could hardly keep up with them. Why had I felt that tingly feeling when he kissed me the other night, and when he took my hand? I don't get it at all, and I'm starting to wonder if there was something wrong with _me_.

Oh dear, I almost forgot about mother! I walked downstairs after I tried clearing my mind of those confusing thoughts, sitting on the table across from my parent. Breakfast was on the table, and I was hungry enough, despite the fact that I practically watched James puke.

Mother looked at me with the same concern she wore on her face when she saw James puking in a bucket on the floor. As much as she hated him, she seemed to care about his health.

"Sarah, I'm very confused about all of this; what happened to James? One day he's fine and now he's sick."

I picked at my food before answering. I know she'll be more than angry, but I had to tell her. I couldn't hide it any longer.

"Alright… this is what happened; Last night after you yelled at us, James was upstairs and I went up to see him because I felt so bad about how you were treating him. I can't help but feel sympathy for James.

"But when I came in he began explaining on how he doesn't want to deal with all of the stress any more and he was scared that you would take me back to England. He was trying to get drunk over it, or at least I think he was, and since I was miserable enough I joined him."

Mother's face was impassive as I spoke of my story. I could tell she was trying not to get angry with me, since I was already despondent.

I continued, my emotions taking over me and I was starting to cry as I said each word. "And because we were intoxicated James started getting on top of me and… Mother, please don't get angry with me, we couldn't control what we were doing and it wasn't our fault! James is sick right now because he has a hangover." I didn't say any more, because all I did was cry like a baby for the fact that mother will probably do something terrible.

Mother's face wasn't all like I expected. She looked more saddened and sympathetic then what I had thought. She spoke with warm smile.

"Sarah… I'm proud of you for telling the truth, because this is something I didn't expect to hear from you, much less being told," she explained. "I'm sorry about this, and for the way I've acted. I shouldn't have inflicted so much pressure on you both, especially since you're telling me you aren't intimate with him.

"I'm only like this because I wanted to see my daughter again. I missed you so much, Sarah, and when I saw James with you, I thought you were going to get married and move away. I knew I'll never see you if you did. I only raised my daughter for fifteen years… and here you are as a grown lady, and I was very scared to see my baby girl grow up so fast…"

So that's what was wrong with her. That's why she was such a stalker when she arrived. She didn't want me to go and grow up too fast. I feel like such an idiot!

"I'm sorry too, Mother," I told her. "I shouldn't have judged your behavior when you--"

"You are not to blame, dear," said my mother, "I am. The reason to both of your suffering was my anger and misunderstanding. I'm truly sorry for what I've done, and I hope you forgive me, my daughter."

I smiled at her, a few more tears wetting my cheek. "It's alright mother; I forgive you."

We both hugged for a long minute, and we both felt like a bunch of scoundrels. But, this was just an accident, and hopefully it won't happen again.

My mother separated from me and said questionably, "As much as I currently feel bad for James for what he's going through, I have to say that he's quite a feisty man. How on earth do you deal with someone like him?"

I smirked to myself, knowing that mother would wonder on how I survive with such a man like James. He was just so different to our eyes since we've been around a bunch of gentlemen all our time in England and it wasn't surprising that she asked.

I said, "It takes a while, but you can get used to his sarcasm. He's really a kind-hearted man if you get to know him…"

"Well I'll certainly go mad if I ever stay with him for months at a time," mother said jokingly.

I laughed, "I bet you would. But, really mother, you must apologize. James is so upset about it. He feels that I'm under so much turmoil, and it would be polite."

"You are right, dear; I'll do so when he gets better," she told me. "I bet he's not in the mood to talk."

"He'd probably bite you," I chuckled.

With those thoughts currently in mind, we resumed our activities for the day.

**A/N: **Finally got this done. It took long enough! This is the longest chapter so far (er… maybe for me since I'm on page 11 on Microsoft Word). But, most of all, I want you all to REVIEW!!!

And I might just get this story finished after all. I don't know yet, because I have no idea what to do for the rest of this story. I'm just going to improvise I suppose…


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Here's chapter four :) I'll add some more SarahJames hints since it's so fun :)

Things have gotten a bit complicated without a man to help you do the hard work. Usually James is the one to make the prints while I put them neatly in piles, but now everything has to be done by me. I surely hope he gets better soon.

He has gotten better, actually, but he still feels dizzy and weak. He is moving around now on the second day but he can't do a ton of work. Sometimes I wonder if he's faking… But, then again, I'm starting to doubt that he'll do anything childish. He's certainly changed during this short time.

Mother was out for a nice stroll through Philadelphia to get some fresh air, especially since I mentioned it to her. She seemed eager to learn about my new home, so she quickly went out the door early this morning.

Once I completed the day's worth of work I sat down at the table, exhausted and tired. I decided to have something to eat since I haven't eaten that morning. It was already close to 10:00 AM and almost lunchtime. I made myself some soup since it was the only thing I could make at the moment and sat back down at the table to eat it.

I felt so worried about James. I know he'll be better by tomorrow, but his condition is still unstable and I feel so helpless. I so desperately want to help him with his condition, but all I can do is wait for him to recover.

James came down the stairs after I sat down, using the hand railing to support himself. He still looked tired, and he must have forced himself out of bed.

"How long have you been sleeping?" I asked him.

"Longer than usual…" he replied drowsily.

Since the clock said 10:05 now, James has slept about two hours past his usual routine. "Are you sure you're alright?" I said.

"Yeah… just a bit disoriented, that's all," he replied, sitting down at the table with me.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday," he replied casually. We haven't talked much through the course of two minutes, and the dreaded uncomfortable silence claimed its place in the room.

I glanced at James as he tried desperately to stay awake, my thoughts again drifting back to what he said the night we accidentally got involved. His words and actions droned my head; his comments and flirting he's been doing during our early weeks in print shop; hints of him loving me; him taking my hand the night mother came, and now when he kissed that hand. I couldn't withstand the pressure any longer. I just _had_ to make sure. All these clues gave me the idea that James might have some sort of attraction to me.

"James…?" I asked, daring myself to speak.

James lifted his head off the table with droopy eyes and said, "What is it, Sarah?"

I had trouble speaking my mind, which was very strange for me, and I couldn't seem to come up with the words to ask. I was so nervous… How would he react? Does he really have feelings for me? What would I do about this?

"Sarah?" I heard him with a puzzling voice, noticing that I wasn't answering.

Everything came out unexpectedly. "James, I don't know what to think anymore. First you start flirting with me, and then you told me you loved me, and how you took my hand… I don't know if--"

"--I have feelings for you?" he interrupted.

"Yes, that's what--" I stopped short and gasped suddenly, catching my breath and stared at him. I just realized that he answered my question, and I soon began to understand.

Everything I've ever seen him doing to me came all the way back to what he just answered for me. He _was_ in love with me… I can't believe I haven't noticed it for all these years! How could I have been so naïve?

"I… I don't know what to say…" I finally said.

"There isn't really much to say, is there?" he said.

"I…"

"Sarah, don't… I just couldn't help it," he began explaining. "I've been having this crush on you since you came here. I've felt it for many, many years… but now it's…"

I think I was going to cry, but from so much emotion in me. He was admitting something he's been hiding from me for so long and I felt so strange about it. It was weird to picture that he actually did have feelings for me… It never came to my mind.

"We should talk upstairs," I told him, trying to make him --and myself-- more comfortable. He nodded quickly and we both started up the stairs with that terrible uncomfortable silence --for the second time that day. For some reason we've felt so awkward around each other during our experience in this household.

We went into my bedroom out of random as a place to talk, and we've been doing so much of that lately. It seems I'm able to talk to him without him acting like an uncivilized child with countless blaming and protesting. I like that. He's starting to change into a mature adult… and his mindset is already kicking in.

I sat down in my desk chair where I usually write mother my informative letters and James sat down on my bed. I didn't dare want to sit next to him again on a comfortable place; I've learned my lesson.

"I'm really quite flattered…" I said, breaking the silence that's been building up like a brick wall.

A weak yet charming smile spread on his face. "It's better then nothing…"

"And that's the cause of your behavior since I've arrived from England?" I questioned. "While you tortured, humiliated, bullied, tormented, and despised me… you were doing it for my attention?"

His smile grew into the smile I always liked. "Well… that and because it's just the way I am. No matter how much I may grow up, Sarah, I'll always be that annoying little kid you all know and care for."

"That's what I was afraid of," I laughed.

"_But_…" he began adding. Oh dear. I just bet he's going to flirt with me again. I can see it in his devious eyes. "I just _couldn't_ control my feelings…" He stood up, walking towards me slowly, bringing back the same mischievous teenager I've always known. I readied myself; even though I thought he has matured, he can still be his dangerous self. "Everything about you fascinated me; your hair… your eyes… the way you smiled; I always loved your smile, Sarah… especially when it was directed _my_ way."

Does he think I'm attracted it him? He seems to think so.

"And your fiery attitude… boy, that was something I _really_ liked about you… That little firecracker shot off the moment I did something unpredictable in your eyes." He was drawing closer to me, and I began to feel boxed in. I still didn't move, no matter how uncomfortable James was making me feel. What on earth was he up to? Why was he trying to torment me like this? Wait…

OH.

_That's_ why.

He was trying to torture me as a way of saying that he was interested in me, the way he's always done it. This is a typical behavior of James Hiller, mature or immature, and I really don't want to be apart of it for the millionth time over the course of many years.

I got up and moved closer to the door, but he got there before I did. He better regret doing this, because right now I'm getting a little irritated. He should stop this insanity before I get angry at him, because he already knows what happens when I get angry.

"What's wrong, Sarah?" he asked, pretending to not notice how scared I was suddenly feeling. Alright, Sarah Phillips, don't let this man keep you locked up in this room. I heard him; I'm not like the other girls that let men run my life. I speak for myself, which I will gladly do right now!

"James Hiller, I swear to the Lord that if you--"

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah… always being the one to think ahead…" he interrupted, continuing to torment me, "always wanting to speak your opinion… always wanting to be ahead of me in everything…" He began to circle me, yet his blue expressive eyes kept staring me down. "As much as I hated you for all the things you criticized me for, and for your bossy behavior, and that you were a Tory… I wanted you _so_ bad…"

He suddenly took me in his arms, taking me by surprise. This has gone far enough.

"James, release me now or I'll get my mother!" I declared, my eyes glaring daggers. James ignored me, and he didn't show any signs of letting go.

"Now Sarah, why on earth would you want to do that…?" he said, his grin still present on his face. Well, he was currently enjoying himself, unlike me. He brushed his fingers gently across my cheek, making me shiver with a mixture of delight and fear. I didn't know which one to feel first.

"James, please, let go of me!" I argued. I was persistent to get out of his embrace and began struggling, but his grip was tighter than a bird of prey's.

"You're even more beautiful when you're angry with me," he said, as if he was completely oblivious to my innumerable protests. "Did I ever tell you how much of gorgeous woman you are? You've come so far from being a spunky red-head of fifteen…"

THAT'S IT!

"James Hiller, let me go right now and stop this foolishness or else I'll--"

My threat was cut short when he locked lips with me… and suddenly everything went away. He placed his hand on the back of my head, going through my curly hair and soaking in this sudden pleasure. He seemed so wrapped up in it that I felt his heart pound against me. His heart throbbing against his chest felt so comforting that I was practically sucked into the kiss.

We were kissing for a good minute until we separated at last, our faces so close that I saw every single detail in his eyes. Each pure blue line in his iris made his eyes shine. They were so beautiful I couldn't stop staring at them. James seemed to notice this, and again there was a warm smile forming on his face.

"So… would you like to eat the rest of your breakfast?" he asked randomly, bringing back down to earth and forcing me to segregate away from his eyes. It took me a few seconds, but I replied.

"Yes… I'm still hungry," I said slowly, breaking away from him and opening the door of my bedroom, giving him a suspicious passing glance before walking down the stairs. I felt so strange, and when he started kissing me (this time he wasn't intoxicated) that queasy, tingly feeling returned and made my stomach turn. It felt somewhat nice… very nice.

--

I walked down the stairs to find that my mother just walked through the print shop doors, as happy as a child on Christmas.

"My, isn't it such a lovely day, Sarah?" she said, her bubbly personality making me somewhat annoyed. "The sun is out, the grass is so green; you were right, it was a great day for a stroll! By the way, is James feeling any better?"

"Oh, yes, he's better alright…" I said with my tone a mix of delight and hate.

"Well, that's good!" my mother said, not noticing my somewhat disputatious tone. "Is it alright if I may go apologize to him for my behavior?" she asked.

"Yes, go ahead, he's having a great day so far," I said, almost snarling. She went upstairs eagerly, still not noticing any of my hints of anger. Since I was already irritated I might as well watch her apologize to James to get my mind off my peevish attitude towards that good-for-nothing scoundrel.

I peeked up the stairs to see James outside my room, leaning against the wall casually as if nothing completely outraging just happened.

"James, I'm sorry for what I said about you when I arrived here in America," my mother explained. "I felt so troubled about you both staying here alone, and I wanted to just keep you and Sarah safe. I've missed my daughter so much since she left for America, and I hope you can forgive me."

"It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Phillips," James replied, glancing at me slightly every few moments, "I understand, and I except your apology." Well, at least he was polite about it.

Mother looked happy with his reply, and now everything was settled between us. Now everything was much more peaceful now that mother and James had a more calm relationship.

Speaking of which, my relationship towards him was quite rocky. We've been hitting some very painful bumps. Mother soon walked down the stairs again with her strangely cheerful mood and I again looked at James as his smile began widening just by the mere sight of me. I glared at him, and his smile turned into a charming grin. I walked up the stairs to face him.

"Hello, Sarah," he said in an irresistible voice. Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach, but I ignored them.

"This isn't over, James Hiller," I said to him with an icy voice. "Why you decided to kiss me and flirt with me in an ungentlemanly-like manner is a mystery to me, but your behavior was completely unacceptable."

"Yes, Ms. Phillips," he said, still giving me the same charming grin.

"If you do so again you won't see the next day…" I was dead serious, but again his laid-back personality shrugged off my threats.

"Of course, Ms. Phillips," he said. "But I _know_ you liked it."

"I certainly did not!" I protested, rather childishly. "I was trying to escape."

"Sure…" he rolled his blue pearls. "You _so_ want me."

"I'm not going to argue with you, Mr. Hiller, and I intend that you don't start a fight with me," I said, lacking patience. Then again, you could never be patient with a man like him.

"I certainly want to," he said. "You're so pretty when you argue with me. The anger in those beautiful emerald green eyes just makes my heart melt."

As much as I sort of like his comments, I didn't want him to get away with his behavior. His behavior was absolutely wonderful before, but since he's told me his feelings, he's acting like the same rebellious teenager during the Revolutionary War. What is happening with him? His different personalities and traits are regulating constantly. Is it some sort of maturity thing that men like James go through? I don't think even Dr. Franklin can answer the question to why men act like such dunces to get a woman's attention. Don't they ever consider just saying 'Hello'?

"James, stop this nonsense!" I said to him, getting more agitated by the minute.

"But don't you like being flattered?" he teased, his body drawing close to me. Oh, no, not this time!

"Get away from me, James, or I'll--"

"What? You'll get your mother? You'll slap me again? Please, Sarah… just tell me that one little fact that you've been hiding from me and I'll leave you alone…"

Regardless of what he said, I slapped him anyway. Hard. This time, on the opposite cheek. I took this time to get away, but again he grabbed me.

"Don't go, Sarah," he said. "Isn't there something _you_ aren't telling me?"

"No, there isn't, James, now do yourself a favor and get on fresh clothing while you're near your bedroom," I snapped.

He snorted, saying, "Since when do I take orders from you?"

"Since right now," I said.

"Okay."

_Huh? _

His reply was almost casual. The second after I replied to his stupidity he obeyed my orders. Now he was Charming James again? What is going on?! I need to figure out what he's up to or else I'll go mad.

--

It's been about three days since mother arrived from England, and so far she's having a lovely time here in Philadelphia. She's enjoying the new surroundings and the different wildlife. Then again, England and Philadelphia's wildlife aren't different by far, just more trees and such.

James is now fully functional --unfortunately-- since his hangover is done and over with. He'll have to think twice before taking another sip of wine ever again, especially the brand he drank. But, like always, he started to annoy me again like the good old times.

Like we've been doing for weeks, James and I are gathering information in town and trying to find interesting news, leaving the print shop around 8:30. Mother decided to work on some knitting while we're out… and asking us to get groceries since she just likes to add more things on our To-Do List. Finding stories around Philadelphia isn't as easy as it sounds, you know.

Since our story-hunting wasn't as successful today, I decided to get the groceries while James is going to continue to search for any interesting news around town. Mother wanted some fruits and vegetables and thought about making soup tonight for dinner, so I grabbed a few from the market. I grabbed a basket and began picking certain foods that I thought were appropriate.

Suddenly, I felt a hand go over my mouth, and instantly I froze. Whoever thought of doing this to a lady was completely idiotic, and I swear I'm going to make them regret it.

"Guess who…" a whisper tickled my ear.

James.

He uncovered my mouth as I turned around, my mind set on strangling him. "James, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to look for more stories while I get groceries!"

"I know. But I got bored with that so I came here to irritate you," he said, making me even more frustrated. "And you know how much I love you…"

I turned around, my back facing him, which silenced him for the remainder of my shopping. Eventually I paid, and he said, "Come on, Sarah, can't we take a break for a little while? We've been out here for hours."

"Oh, fine, as long as you stay quiet," I gave in, tired of hearing his constant complaints.

"Finally!" he announced. I shushed him for his loud behavior and all he did was roll his eyes, following me to a field outside of town and sat on a nearby hill. It was a very peaceful area, and I soon took my spot near the tree that towered over us, darkening the green beneath my feet while little specks of sunlight shown through the leaves.

James was lying on his back while looking at the sky, not trying to bother me in the least. Again he changes his behavior. I still don't understand that, and I don't want to ask, because it's probably something I won't understand anyway.

"Sarah?" said James.

"Yes?"

"Um… how many suitors have you had throughout your life?"

Now he was asking personal questions out of the blue. Okay then. I might as well answer since no one else is with us.

"Well… I've had a lot, but most of them were jerks," I told him.

"Not surprising that you'd have a lot of suitors," he said. I started blushing, and those butterflies began upsetting my stomach again. I don't know why I keep feeling them whenever James says something charming. "Why were they a bunch of jerks?" James asked.

"They seemed very polite and everything when I met them, but I figured out how vain and stuck up they were."

James laughed. "It figures. English men are a bunch of snobs. They would think they owned this land if they ever came here."

"For once, I agree with you." I began fidgeting at my dress, hating the fact that I had to wear these awful dresses just because I'm an English lady. Even though I've been wearing them for years and years, I still can't get over how uncomfortable they were.

James glanced at me. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," I lied, constantly fussing at my corset which was causing all the distress. Yes, another corset, isn't that just lovely?

He grinned, knowing just by my body language that I was uncomfortable. "What seems to be the problem with it?"

"I just can't breathe properly," I replied. "Every time I wear a corset I have a lot of trouble breathing."

"I can't believe your mother makes you wear something in which you can't breathe. It seems so ignorant." Unfortunately James had some problems with this. In order for me to loosen my corset he would have to take off my dress. So, the question was, _how_ exactly was he going to do that?

"I'm going to have to take your dress off, Sarah," he said, a bit uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, but it's the only thing I can do if you want to _live_." Gosh, he sounded as if I was dying. Well, at least he cared, right?

We went behind the tree, not facing the town, and James gingerly took off my dress. I felt so exposed and completely embarrassed, even though no one but James was seeing. I had my under-dress on under the corset, so no skin on my chest or lower body would be revealed (thankfully). He loosened the strings on the back of the corset, and I breathed a sigh, feeling so much better now that my head wasn't spinning.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes, much," I said. "Now, if you could, PLEASE let me put my dress back on." With a nervous laugh, James let me put my dress back on now that I was more comfortable. Finally, I can actually have air circulate through me!

I sat down, feeling rather calm. James sat down with me, folding his arms on the back of his head while leaning on the course-textured tree and shut his eyes. He looked so… at peace. Sometimes I wished I could be so laid-back like he was; not having a care in the world… just having fun all day long without worry about the chores of the day. Instead, James would be having fun so he can have meaning in his lifetime. My life was different, however, and I was always busy and I rarely had time to relax back home. But I was here in America now, where I actually could relax.

I was tempted to try and annoy him in some sort of way, just to get back at him for his changes in behavior. Maybe just poking him? It was worth a shot. I moved my finger towards his body, aiming for his chest.

He opened one of his eyes. "I know you want to, Sarah."

Darn.

He shut his eye again, waiting for me to make a move. Oh, god, I wanted to…

No. I'm not starting a game this time. Then I would be the one to blame instead of him.

Oh, who cares? I just want my revenge. I poked him in the chest, and then he quickly poked my shoulder. Oh, no, I have a feeling that this game will probably last forever.

I sat there, feeling a bit foolish on doing something so childish. As much as I wanted to play this game, I didn't want to simultaneously. If I poked him again, he'd poke me and then I'd poke him and then I'll poke him again and then he'll poke me again… So, yes, the game will continue until someone gives up. That was the entire point.

"Well?"

James had his eye open again, still curious if I was going to do it or not.

"James… I can't. It's so incompetent."

James began smiling again, which made me feel warmer inside, and then he poked me in the shoulder again. He shut his eye once more, and continued his state of tranquility.

He was tempting me to do it. That scoundrel. There was no time for this! We've had enough time to relax. It's time to get back to business.

Just then, he reached over and tickled my neck, making me squirm, and in response he giggled at me. I pretended it didn't happen and focused on the silence and serene environment. Again James likes to be annoying and tickled me again.

"James, please, knock it off," I scolded him. "Can't I have one minute of peace for once?"

James tickled me for the third time.

Apparently he didn't want me to be at ease.

"What is it with you?" I scoffed.

"I'm just having some fun. Why can't you just relax for a bit; stop being so serious."

"Well at least I have some sanity to stop whenever someone clearly says 'stop'," I protested.

With another one of his sly grins, James once again tickled my sensitive neck for the _fourth_ time.

_Alright, that does it!_

I attacked him, getting on top of him and playfully hitting him. The whole time he was laughing hysterically, probably enjoying his negative attention. I will immediately scold myself for what I'm doing right this minute later on, since it was completely out of my league.

After a few minutes of him trying to get me off him, I myself was having some fun of my own. I was also laughing, despite my irritated attitude while he was tickling me on my neck, and I was finally having fun.

Eventually, James flipped me over and held down my arms so I wasn't able to attack him again. He was grinning like a wild man.

"What're you going to do now, hmm?" he laughed.

I shook my head. "You're so uncivilized…"

"And so are you… if you let yourself have some fun."

It almost seemed like he was saying I never had fun at all. I'll surely change that in the near future, since this was already enjoyable enough.

"James, let me go!" I ordered. "This is getting very uncomfortable and I'm done fighting with you."

James pretended to think. "Nah. I think I'll stay here."

"James!"

"What?!"

"You're so difficult."

James's charming smile returned on his face… and suddenly felt like melted butter. "Your comments touch me so much, Sarah," he said in a sarcastic tone, sounding dramatic.

I giggled because of his daft joke, and suddenly my mind was lost in thoughts I didn't recognize. Again his lips touched mine, his kiss as light as a feather. I suddenly was soaking into it, putting my arms around him. What was going on with me? This was most unacceptable for me! I have to get out of this situation!

_But_… There's nothing wrong with staying a little longer…

**A/N: **Hehe I like this chapter XD

REVIEW!!!!!!!!

Now excuse me while I go to bed because I'm SO tired…


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I'm getting this story done faster than I thought O.o I thought this would take forever to complete, but it turns out I might get it done in a couple of days! Awe, and this story was fun to write ^__^

--

James and I returned around noon after two hours of searching for a good story, and we were unsuccessful once again. I was still quite bashful about our… _moment_… in the field, and James and I haven't spoke of it since it happened. Obviously James was being the irritant and continuously brought it up during our search, making me feel even more embarrassed and confused, which was most likely his goal.

The way I felt in his arms, soaking up all the love he was giving me, made me feel like I was floating on a cloud. The bewildering part of it all was why I did enjoy it. Usually my first response to his affection would be shouting and tons of pointless commands… But not that time.

Mother looked up from her knitting and smiled. "Oh, good, you brought the groceries!" She got up from her seat and took the basket containing the citrus and vegetables.

"Mother, why did you ask for us to get groceries when you could have easily bought them yourself?" I sounded as if situation was potentially obvious to solve.

"Well, you two were already going out to look for some stories for your newspaper, so why couldn't you get the groceries while you're in town?" mother said. "For me it's getting rather humid outside."

Indeed, she was right. In early July summer has already claimed its place in Philadelphia. Tonight was going to be a celebration for the colonists here in Pennsylvania since it has now been at least a decade since the Declaration of Independence was signed. Yesterday was supposed to be the celebration, since it was the fourth, but there was a potential downpour and a severe thunderstorm, so they couldn't hold the celebration that night. So now it was going to be rescheduled tonight. For us English it wasn't very exciting due to our much older nation, but for the infant that is America it was a party worth celebrating.

"So, are any of you thinking of going to the celebration tonight?" My mother probably heard about it.

"I'd like to go," said James. Figures. He'd probably do some sort of party prank… like he did last year.

He turned to me, waiting for me to volunteer. "What?"

"Well? Are you going to the celebration?" James asked.

"Um… I don't know," I said. "I'm really not too interested."

"Awe, come on!" James began complaining. "Please?" He leaned towards me and gave me an innocent look.

"No."

"Please?"

"NO."

"Pretty please?"

"**NO**."

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

You've got to be kidding me…

"The answer is still NO."

"Why not, Sarah?" James was starting to sound distressed. I noted this.

"Because I really don't want to go, is that too much for you to handle?"

"Yes, quite."

Suddenly things were silent, and mother has been watching us argue, thinking of ways to break us up. "You know, Sarah, even though you say you two aren't in a relationship, you both fight like a married couple."

I stared at her, while James was beaming with pride and happiness. Go ahead, James… smile as if you're not interested in me in the least! I can't believe mother isn't figuring that out by now!

James turned to me again. "_Please_?"

I looked at him with a hint of anger in my green eyes, while he looked at me with the same expression, trying to mock me. "Oh, fine…" I said finally, crossing my arms.

"YES!" he cheered directly in my ear.

"I hope you're happy, Mr. Hiller," I scoffed, starting upstairs.

"You have no idea…" he said to me. The only reason why he wanted me there was just for him to flirt with me. I knew it was going to come.

--

I winced as that dreaded comb went through my hair. Mother was so excited for the celebration since she's been unusually perky today, and tried getting me ready for it. I wanted to get ready myself, but mother just can't help but interfere. So now I was being tortured with an annoying comb in which my mother was holding that will probably break from my wild red hair.

"Sarah, cheer up," my mother told me. "You should be happy that you're going with James to this wonderful celebration."

She must have noticed my serious expression. "I really didn't want to go…"

"Yes, but you're going anyway because James forced you to," she told me.

"I'll get my revenge eventually," I grumbled.

Mother smiled warmly, and the only reason why I caught it was because the mirror was right in front of me, seeing my frizzy hair in many tangles and knots.

"Sarah… I know James can be a bit frustrating to deal with, but at least try to humor him once in a while. You both have trouble getting along, I've heard. This would be a good way to interact and settle your problems."

"Yes, well, he's been acting more appropriate since we've been left alone, but now he's acting like the same teenager I met during the Boston Tea Party; rude, arrogant, uncivilized, and sly." I already knew the answer to his behavior, but mother did not. I didn't want her getting excited about his affection towards me, thinking he'd be someone I'd consider marrying.

"Well, whatever reason it is, I surely hope you two stop arguing like a bunch of children," mother said.

"But he's the one acting like a child, mother!" I protested.

"Indeed," she said, rolling her eyes. I laughed, eventually jumping of pain from the comb trying to tame my hair.

"Sorry, Sarah."

So, eventually my mother got through my hair and left the room for me to get changed and I picked out a gown to wear that night. I went through each of the dresses and shrugged them off. They didn't seem appropriate for the occasion. I suddenly spotted something white from my closet, to see my favorite dress I haven't worn since mother arrived. I haven't even looked at it since I wanted to 'impress' my mother to show I was still a respected lady, and I felt the time was right to wear it. It _was_ summer, and the other dresses I wore kept most of the heat in.

I put it on, without a dreaded corset, and let my hair go free. I think I looked quite nice, though not as nice as I should be (besides, how could you have fun in a dress you could barely breathe with?), but I wanted it to be a fun night with James; not awkward, not frustrating, not _romantic_, and I'm definitely making sure there's no kissing. I feel uncomfortable enough when I'm near him.

I walked out of the room to see my mother a bit confused that it wasn't a fancy, elegant dress with a bloody corset, but she was content.

"You look lovely, dear," she commented.

"Thank you, mother," I replied shyly.

I walked downstairs, where James was waiting patiently, and when he saw me his expression was a classic one. He smiled happily, probably seeing the oh-so-familiar dress.

"Come on, dears, let's get going!" mother said, almost bolting out the door. She exited the print shop before we did, and James looked at me, connecting arms with me. I let this behavior slide by, since it was considered polite for a man to do this with a woman.

"I haven't seen that dress in a while," he told me.

"Yes… I know," I said, grinning at him. "It's only been a few days."

"Yeah, but I always liked it. The other dresses were too frilly." We walked out the doors, while mother was waiting a few feet ahead for us to catch up. She smiled at our conjoined arms, happy that James decided to be polite.

Usually the celebration happened around town, which meant it would be very crowded. Usually everyone would be around town to wait for the fireworks to start. Great Britain was fascinated with fireworks, and eventually they were brought over here so that they made an addition to the Fourth of July celebration every year. It was always a good experience to see flashing colors light up the sky. People were mostly there to see them, however, so that is mainly why the town gets slightly congested. Many rush to the fields to get a good spot to watch the fireworks late at night.

It's only about 7:30 PM, and because the days are longer, night won't get dark until around 8:00. Everyone was trying to rush to get a good seat, and coming in early would mean disaster. If you came in at the last minute then you are more likely able to avoid a huge crowd. However, finding a seat won't be easy at that hour.

But, so far, everyone was just wandering around town, playing games, or just lounging about. Still, it was very loud.

"You dears have fun; I'm going to find Mrs. Radcliffe and some of my other friends. I'll see you all during the fireworks!" Then, she went off, bewildering both James and I.

"What on earth was that about?" I asked.

"I heard that a few of your mother's friends came into town for the celebration, so your mom needs to chat with them and do English… stuff…" he told me.

"If I told you what kind of 'stuff' we English do, then you'll be bored to tears, trust me," I joked.

"Yes… most likely," he said. "Is it really a bunch of tea and crumpets and all of that?"

"Occasionally…" I said, a bit distantly. "I… I can't remember much of my homeland now that I've been here for so long."

I felt James's arm disconnect from mine and he gently wrapped it around my shoulders. "That's a good thing…"

I felt the sudden warmth return to me, my stomach queasy and butterflies taking flight again. "I suppose so…" I said.

We walked around for a bit, laughing at some currant events like the children running around and having the time of their lives. I miss those days. But, because everyone was waiting around for the fireworks, there wasn't much to do.

During the whole time we staid there, James held me close. Holding my hand, his arm wrapped around my shoulders… It was quite soothing. The crowd wasn't getting any less congested, however, so he probably made sure I was near or else I'd be lost in a matter of moments. Yes, that's how crowded it was every year. But thankfully it was starting to clear up, and I could actually see streets.

"So… what do we do now?" James asked, once we found an area to move more easily.

"Well, we have to do something while we wait for mother to find us and get a spot to watch the fireworks," I replied.

"We could play a game?" he suggested.

"Alright, that seems fine," I agreed. Again a playful grin formed on his face. Oh, no, please, James; don't be devious at a time like this!

"Okay; TAG, you're it," he said, poking my arm and got a running start.

You're kidding, right? Can James be any more childish? _TAG_? We're how old?

He looked back to see me standing there, looking at him with my eyebrows arched. "Hello? I tagged you!" he said.

"James, seriously. I'm not playing a game for adolescents."

He walked back with a bored expression on his face. "Sarah, come _on_. The point of this celebration is to have fun. Who cares what everyone else thinks? You said so yourself a few nights ago to your mother. So… would you just relax for a bit and do something before your life ends? We're only young once…"

His words affected me greatly, and I felt like a fool because he was right. What I said to mother at the dinner table barely four nights ago was my true mind speaking, and here I was denying it. But, as much as I believe in it, I still didn't want to play. I was getting tired.

"Sorry James, no."

His face was full of shock, as if his pleading worked every time (and usually he got his way). His face soon softened.

"Well… I guess if you don't want to play… then I guess I'll just find something else to entertain myself…" his sly smile gave me a hint that he was trying to think of something devious to get his way. "Hmm… I guess a drinking game with some of my friends would be nice; since Sarah doesn't want to do anything with me…"

A _drinking_ game? Alcohol? _Wine_? Not again. Not this time.

"A _what_?!" I screamed. "James Hiller, you are _not_ taking part in something so barbaric and unsanitary!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" he said innocently, his charming grin still on his face.

"RUN."

"Why?"

I poked him.

"Tag; you're it."

His smile widened as he sprinted away, and I chased after him. He was clever enough to be able to say that he would do something that would completely enrage me, leading me to changing my mind. No wonder he's gotten himself out of so many situations. He has duped me, but like he's said… I was having fun. Again.

I chased him out onto the field, trying to avoid other people sitting and eventually I tackled him to the ground, and we both were laughing loudly while some stared occasionally. We were both lying on our sides and facing each other, breathing hard, trying to calm ourselves down.

"You see, Sarah? That's all it takes…" he told me quietly. He sounded as if he were some sort of teacher. He brushed a red strip of hair out of my face, causing me to blush, but thankfully there wasn't enough light to notice.

Soon more people began moving into the area in which we were laying on, and it turned out that the fireworks were going to start very soon. We had to get out and find a seat in the field or else all the good seats will be gone. Also, we had to make sure mother could find us. Wherever she was, I hoped she was having some fun like I was.

James quickly led me over to a less crowded field, where the sky was completely clear and there weren't a lot of people blocking our view. Ironically it was the same place that we sat this morning… and I recognized the same tree.

Mother soon found us, still in her cheerful mood, and said, "Oh, what a lovely place to see fireworks! I met up with Mrs. Radcliffe and everything is fine with her, and my friends have been doing quite well, too."

"How is Mr. Radcliffe?" I asked, trying to get into the conversation and get my mind off of what had just occurred. I felt so strange when James was close to me, and I didn't want to think about it.

"She says he's doing quite well and just came back from Canada," my mother explained, using her hand simultaneously to search for something around her. "He's--" She stopped short, using both hands this time to search for something.

"Is something wrong?" James asked.

"Yes," she answered, looking behind herself, "I think I've lost my purse!"

"Was there anything valuable in it?" I asked.

"Well, you do want to get into the print shop after the fireworks are over, don't you dear?" she said, looking around the area.

Of course she had to lose a purse that contained the key to the print shop. Both James and I were nervous, knowing that anyone would want a purse. People are thirsty for money and jewels and other treasures that are left behind for too long.

"Oh, it's not anywhere near here!" mother cried. "I'll be right back!"

"Don't you want us to go with you?" James asked.

"Oh, no, dear; both of you stay there," she told him. "I'll go look for it; don't worry about me. You both need to save our seats or else we won't see the fireworks at all." She left before we could protest, now frantic. I sure hope she finds it…

This left James and I alone as always, staring at the blank, star-less sky. It would have been nice if there were stars. When I was in England I would go outside during the summer months and look up at the sky, occasionally falling asleep right on the soft grass. Ah… memories…

At random I played with the locket I still wore around my neck, symbolizing James's sweet side as a young adult. I still love it dearly. Someday I have to repay him for it.

James looked at me as I studied it, saying, "You're still wearing it?"

"Yes, of course," I said.

"Well… I kind of expected you to get rid of it years ago since you disliked me so much," he said, his words somewhat surprising to hear.

"James, no, I wouldn't do such a thing!" I said to him. "I wouldn't give up something that valuable. It was a very selfless thing you did, James… especially since it was the only thing that reminded you of your parents."

He could tell I felt so sad about his heartrending story. He used his hand to life my chin up, our eyes locking. "It made you happy, didn't it…?"

"Yes…"

"Then that's all that mattered…" he told me. Slowly, his face moved towards mine, eventually kissing me. Twice he's done this today, and every time he did it I felt so… _wonderful_…

Again those strange emotions kept coming back, and the more I felt them the more I began to understand what they were. My heart began beating rapidly, the kiss becoming more serious. I suddenly felt a little conscious, because he was kissing me in public where everyone was seeing us. But, no one seemed to notice; they were too concerned with issues of their own. He kissed my neck and ran his lips across my skin as I continued to join in, and we started lying down on the grass. He has to stop doing this, because I felt so conspicuous. What if my mother sees? She'll be a little more than surprised… but I was practically hypnotized. It almost seemed like I was under some sort of spell.

Suddenly, he started to take off my dress, and almost instantly I stopped, noticing that he was digging a very deep hole. "James, snap out of it!"

He separated from me, feeling embarrassed. It was understandable… since the experience had been overly thrilling.

"Sorry…" he said, as we both sat up.

I didn't say anything and fixed my dress, making sure nothing was showing. He didn't expose anything, but those hormones rushing through him were probably trying to. I knew he didn't mean it. It was only instinct.

"Oh, thank goodness I found it!" cried my mother, whom just walked back with us. She looked tired from running around looking for her belongings, but looked relieved nevertheless. In her hands was the purse. I was glad she found it, and I'm I feel jovial for the fact that she didn't see James and I kissing.

"Where was it?" James asked.

"Well, I found Mrs. Radcliffe with it and she told me I dropped it when I started walking back to meet you both here," she said. "She picked it up so no one would grab it, but she wasn't able to hand it to me because the crowd was being unpredictable." She rolled her eyes, looking back at the crowd with a scornful expression.

"Well, at least you found it, mother, or else we wouldn't have a bed to sleep on," I said.

Thankfully, less than an hour later, the fireworks started, and my goodness it was spectacular as always! Lots of colors and flashy explosives (mainly red, white and blue) spread all around the sky, smoke going wherever the wind blew it. Each year was something great, and I always looked forward to them, like every other average American in Philadelphia. Unfortunately I'm not a true American; I am British, and for as long as I live I will remain loyal to my heritage. Then again _some_ don't appreciate that.

I glanced at James, who seemed content and relaxed as he watched the fireworks, which was surprising since he'd usually be going crazy like he's done every year. The colored fire of the Fourth of July celebration in the sky reflected on his eyes, making his blue irises seem to glitter. It was always fascinating when observing the man that was James Hiller.

Mother, on the other hand, couldn't contain all her excitement as she watched the fireworks, completely awed. She hasn't seen fireworks in her life, as James and I could easily tell, so she was very excited to view something different besides the occasional celebrations in England. We both smirked at mother's expressions every time a firework went off; we found it simply hysterical. She's actually enjoying herself in Philadelphia, which I had hoped. It made me smile that mother saw things the same way I did, which usually doesn't happen very often.

Sadly, the fireworks ended, but everyone around us went wild and began cheering. We all did as well and we weren't afraid to show it either because everyone else was doing the exact same thing. I felt so free that I was able to act un-lady like for at least a few moments without mother scolding me for it. When I was younger, mother would yell at me when I didn't act like a proper woman, which is how I got my straight-and-narrow side to me. But, most women are like that in England, and I fit in like a glove on a hand. But, as much as I did, I started feeling that the glove was starting to fit oddly on my hand, like it was getting too small for me.

Soon, mother, James, and I started heading back to the print shop to go to sleep, because we were all very tired. Thankfully we were able to go faster than the crowd, and I felt very happy that we missed the congestion. I saw that the streets were starting to fill up again as all the citizens started going home.

Mrs. Radcliffe had caught up with us with a few of her friends and began chatting with my mother, completely ignoring us, if you will. They were caught up in so many different conversations that it seemed like they didn't even know we existed.

James was holding my hand, probably feeling the same thing I was at this moment; awkward. We've kissed before in other odd situations, but even so we've begun to see a change in our behaviors.

I began to feel rather comfortable around him, to the point that I was enjoying his kissing. Every time he said something charming or flattering, or when he was close to me, those fluttering butterflies would move around in my stomach and cause me to feel queasy; I loved how he touched my face and spoke softly to me… treating me with such care… I didn't know what was wrong with me. And right now… the feeling of his hand in mine felt so…_ perfect_.

"I'm still sorry, you know," he said quietly, interrupting my train of thought.

I looked at him while he glanced at me apologetically.

"It's nothing to worry about, James," I said matter-of-factly. "It's not like we haven't done it before _ever_."

"Yeah, but _still_…" he really looked like he was sorry. "I shouldn't have started to take your dress off… but I just couldn't help it; it was nagging me, I tell you!"

"Shh…" I said, my eyes motioning to mother and her friends up ahead. If they heard any of this we'd be in a whole lot of trouble. We wouldn't have done anything wrong, but they'd be going around saying things about engagement parties and such.

"I still feel really guilty," he said.

_James_? _Guilty_? In the same sentence? That was a first. Then again, there has been a lot of firsts with James lately.

"James, please, you don't have to worry about it."

"But--"

"Shh."

He looked at me irritably, somewhat surprised that I would be like this towards him. Well, if someone you'd know kept apologizing to you for something that didn't make much of a difference, you'd get a little peevish wouldn't you?

"Gee… sorry I _actually_ cared about you, Ms. Phillips," James said, folding his arms. Oh, his hand wasn't in mine anymore; I was starting to get used to that.

"Just forget it…" I said, not wanting to talk of it much longer.

"But… are you alright?" he asked, concerned for my well-being, probably noticing my solitary thinking.

"Yes… I am," I said, a bit unsure if I really was or not. To be honest, I haven't a clue.

James sighed irritably at the sight of the English women ahead of us chatting away like birds chirping on a spring day. "They never stop talking, do they?"

"No, but you'd get used to it if you ever came to England," I replied. Good, now we were talking of something other then the romance we had before the fireworks.

"Yeah, sure, that'll happen," James grunted jokingly. "I will never set foot on that hellish place in my life."

I held my tongue when he spoke of England badly, even though I wanted to yell at him for insulting my country. But, I decided to reply politely. "It is not _that_ bad, James."

"How would you know? You said you couldn't remember the times you had back in England because you had so many experiences here."

His smart-alec remarks are starting to make me feel like some sort of idiot, like I'm the one not thinking.

"That's not the point," I replied quickly.

He only rolled his eyes and focused on the road ahead. But eventually that road lead to the print shop, and all of my mother's friends left to go home. Finally, there was peace and quiet; no high pitched laughing, no chattering, no pointless conversations on insignificant subjects.

"I thought that was a lot of fun, don't you agree?" Mother said, almost to herself.

"Yes… it was," James said, his eyes motioned towards me, making me look away. I hated it when he did that…

"As always it was a celebration worth seeing," I said, before James's eyes could dig deeper into me.

"And you said you didn't want to go," mother laughed. She took out the key and put it through the key hole, unlocking the door to a vacant print shop that was dark and eerie.

James came in and turned on a lantern, our vision enhancing now that we could see where we were going. I yawned, my eyes drooping slightly as I sat down on the nearest chair. I so badly wanted to drag myself up to that comfortable bed, but I already made myself comfy in this chair. I rested my head on the table for at least a few moments, feeling better now that my eyes were closed and no longer hurt from their attempt to stay awake.

"You both have a good night," said mother. "I'll see you bright and early in the morning!" She walked upstairs in her cheerful state of mind, not appearing tired at all.

I felt a hand on my shoulder as I heard a male voice, "Sarah, come on, let's get in bed."

James chuckled to himself when I grumbled, grumpy because I didn't want to move. Suddenly I almost screamed in surprise when James grabbed me off the chair, trying to get me off my feet. What on earth was he doing? This was most outrageous and he wasn't acting like the gentleman I expected of him! I swear I'm going to get back at him for this… Enraged that he would even think of doing something like this, I broke free and glared at him.

"Oh, you _are_ awake," he stifled a laugh.

I hit him on his arm and stormed upstairs as he followed me, trying not to laugh loudly. "James, don't ever do that sort of thing again. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"I really made you jump, didn't I?" he said, rather arrogantly.

"And you're proud of that?" I said angrily.

"Somewhat, yes…" he said, though I knew he was joking. Still, it made me feel extremely uncomfortable. He could have easily shaken me awake instead of grabbing me off the chair like a rag doll, but _no_… He had to act like an immature child.

We reached the top of the stairs when I said to him, "Sometimes James, you just drive me crazy."

"Oh really? I like the sound of that…" James said with his irresistible voice again, sending shivers down my body. Does he think everything I say is a new opportunity for a game? In his case, most likely.

James used his fingers again to tickle my neck, reminding me of the morning we spent together under that lovely tree.

"James, stop it! I'm quite tired and I want to go to sleep," I argued, losing my temper with him.

"I thought you liked it when I did that," he smiled, tickling me again.

"I certainly did not! Now stop this incompetent behavior immediately or I'll--"

He latched onto me before I could finish my sentence and began kissing my neck passionately, and my urge for me to fight was gone as I froze in place. _Three_ times he's done this today! My lord he was being awfully romantic…

What was the point in doing this to me? Was it to ease me, make me feel better? What did he want? I know he wanted my attention and my affection, but the question was what he wanted right now.

I practically melted as he continued to kiss me, and I wanted him to get off me, but somehow my body wasn't responding. Part of me wanted to stay… yet part of me wanted to get in bed and rest my eyes. What should I do? I don't know!

He disconnected and gave me another one of his charming smiles, causing more tingly feelings. "Sweet dreams, Ms. Phillips," he said quietly, practically floating off me and retreating to his room, a smile still spread across his face. I remained standing there breathless, wondering what in God's name just happened.

I too retreated to my room slowly, shutting the door with care as I thought in place, my mind going from the kiss to those strange feelings that erupted while he was doing so. That kiss felt so wonderful… I have to admit to myself. I practically dropped into his hands from his lips on my neck.

My mind was racing quickly, and things were suddenly moving so fast. From all the things I've been through with him during this time alone, my mind made up a conclusion to what I've been feeling this whole time as he held me in his arms.

I've developed passionate feelings for James Hiller… and there was practically nothing I could do about it.

Oh, James… you've certainly caused enough trouble for me already…

**A/N: **OMG this took forever to write!! REVIEW!!!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait. I've been a bit busy by going to my camp and such. And, well, you know… there's no computer or internet. So, yes, here's chapter 6 at last :3 Does it seem like every chapter is a bit longer than the other? It kind of seems like that to me.

August.

September.

October.

Time flies by so quickly, doesn't it? It's been almost six months since our friends left, and it is now the 10th of October. I'm hoping they will soon return, because I can't take it any longer! James is practically haunting my thoughts. I can't help but think of his lovely eyes and catchy smile… The way he looks at me while his mind thinks of mischievous thoughts. These feelings were making me blind, in a sense.

Constantly James has been flirting with me during the course of three months, and I was enjoying it quite a lot. His flirtations weren't annoying like I originally thought; they made me feel warm inside whenever he commented me on how I looked. In a way… he made me feel beautiful.

I know he had feelings for me, but what will he think when I told him of mine? Let me rephrase that:_ if_ I told him of mine. I can't tell him! No! It'll be a disaster! He's already been rejected before, so why should I bother?

Oh, dear, I'm thinking too hard. Maybe I should just relax… Maybe this is all just a dream… a very _good_ dream…

In attempts to think other than my puzzling feelings for the man I least expected to be attracted to, I went downstairs to greet my mother, whom was happily reading a romance novel. Wonderful, just what I needed.

"Well, good morning, Sarah," she said, folding the page she last read in her book and closed it. "You've slept later than you normally do."

"Well… I guess I'm just getting a little lazy…" I said, not really thinking about what I was saying. I haven't been thinking a lot, have I? "There are barely any stories around town and there hasn't been as many papers going out, so generally there's no point in getting up early to get started on an article."

Mother looked at me with a mix of concern and regret as I sat down on the sofa across from her. She started taking out her knitting kit, which means there must be something upsetting her. Whenever mother had some trouble in a situation or if she was going through stress, she would sit down and knit to make herself feel better. But, I had a feeling that this was for a different reason.

"Sarah, I need to talk to you about something…" she told me.

"What is it, mother?"

"Well… dear… I was thinking, once your friends return from France, that you'll head back to England… with me?" she sounded hesitant, like she was forcing it out for me to hear.

Go back to England? After all I've been through? Why would she suggest this? "Mother… I…" I said. "Why? Is it James? Is he being a block-head again? Oh, god I'll have to give him another one of my famous talks."

"No, no…" she smiled, knowing I'd consider James as a problem. Her smile soon faded. "I just feel that you've spent your time in America, and that you're ready to return to your formal home. It's where we belong, Sarah, and you need to move on with your life."

I stared at her impassively for a few moments, wondering why she came to this conclusion. I don't want to go back! I simply love it here! It seems to be the only place I've ever enjoyed myself. When I was still in England, I never had any fun as a young girl. It was always about manners and looking proper and making sure you were a _lady_. Perfect. Always beautiful. Always graceful. Here I've witnessed children playing in the street as if there were no responsibilities, and having that freedom was something I somehow missed. Obviously as a toddler to my early tween years I've had my fun with my friends. I played games and did the things all the other girls did. But as I got older and reached my teens, mother focused me more towards the adult world of order, respect, and responsibility. I haven't had any decent fun with friends for years up until now… when I was left here alone with James. In a way, he opened up my eyes where I can see the light again.

"But I don't want to go back, mother!" I protested. "I thought you were going to stay here since I found father."

"I know, but I still have other things to take care of back in England, and we'll come back in a few years."

A few _years_?

"Why do you have to take me?" I was starting to get frantic, asking her questions to why she would dare on sending me back to England, when I had the most wonderful memories here with Henri, Moses, James and Dr. Franklin.

"Because, Sarah, you are becoming of age when you choose a suitor, and soon you'll take on similar responsibilities that involve our higher class. I'm sorry, dear, but that's just the way it is."

"Well, maybe that should change, because I'm certainly not moving from here!" I yelled.

Mother glared at me, making me shy away slightly. "Sarah Phillips, don't you dare use that tone of voice with me! You know these things come first, and I'm sorry but you have to return to your homeland."

I was starting to tear up, feeling so sorrowful and heartbroken that mother would do this to me! Did she not enjoy herself here in Philadelphia? Didn't she see things the way I did? I swear she liked it here, but I guess I was wrong.

"I already scheduled a ship on the day of your friends' return, October 15, so you could say goodbye to them. I knew you would protest against this due to your stubborn nature."

"What?! You already scheduled me to go back to England without even telling me before hand?!" I practically screamed. I was acting rather unladylike this morning.

"Sarah, I told you not to yell at me," mother said firmly, that look on her face indicating that she was wondering why I was acting the way I was.

"Well, I still am!" I replied smartly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Again a stern, threatening expression appeared on my mother's face. "Get upstairs, right now. I don't want to hear anymore of this. We're leaving and there is nothing you can do about it."

Her words silenced me. I had to obey, because that was what was expected of me. Then again, I was pretty weak for a stubborn individual. I couldn't help it. Going against mother's beliefs was like boiling in hot water.

I walked upstairs, on the verge of uncontrollable tears. Not only would I be leaving everything I cared for, but I had to suck up all of my courage and tell James the truth. I can almost see the expression on his face when he hears of this: his eyes blazing, his facial expressions sharp and his stare hard. Trust me, it's terrifying to witness. When James is angry, I'd suggest staying away.

I hated it when he was angry, and if I told him he'd be more than angry; he'd be _enraged_. His affection for me will probably consume more and more of that pain that will come if I leave. If he cared for something or someone, anger is one emotion that will drive him up the wall.

Not only that… but I'll probably be angry as well. I'd be angry at mother for ruining my life, but I'd also be angry for the fact that I'll never see Henri, Moses, Dr. Franklin, or James ever again. They've brought so much joy to my life… I don't know where I'll be without them.

Why did I have to have feelings for James? It's been growing more and more since I discovered it back in July. It's starting to eat me alive. And that terrible fact that I wasn't going to see him again…? I don't know what I'll do…

I walked to my bedroom, shutting the door and began tearing up. I didn't want to cry, and I haven't cried in so long, but I couldn't stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. I wanted it to all go away, hoping some miracle would happen; but I knew there was nothing I could do. James would be angry with me, and I won't be able to say goodbye to him… Henri would be begging me to not go… Moses and Dr. Franklin would miss me terribly, and I felt so bad to see them upset…

Speaking of James… I haven't seen him all morning. Is he still in bed? In moments I found out, seeing him asleep with his hair frenzied. I couldn't help but giggle at that… He looked so ridiculous I just had to laugh at him. Strands of his hair kept getting in the way of his face, and I had to stop myself before I'd reach out and move them out of the way. I shouldn't let my feelings take over me… like James does. But, then again, James was braver than I.

He had no night shirt on, which I expected, and probably had slept half naked. For some reason most men do that, maybe because they're temperature was much higher than girls? I don't know, but it varied between genders.

James was being lazy again this morning; sleeping until nearly ten o'clock and it was nearing lunch time. I had to get him up.

I shook him slightly. "James, get up. It's nearly ten."

He only turned over, completely oblivious to my orders.

Typical.

I tried shaking him again more forcefully. "James… come on…" I coaxed. He started to slowly come out of it, but just when I thought he was awake he fell back asleep again. What is it with men being heavy sleepers?

No wonder he kept falling asleep again; the room was very dark. The curtains practically blackened the room. I went over to open the curtains, bright sunlight streaming through the room once the two separate fabrics segregated away from each other.

I saw James squint from the sudden change, and suddenly falling out of bed! I heard a thud as he hit the floor. As much as I felt bad for him, I couldn't help but laugh at his clumsiness. Who wouldn't laugh at someone falling out of bed?

He tried getting on top of the bed again in a rather drowsily manner, to find me laughing at him near the window. "Oh, you think that's pretty funny, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, still laughing.

While I continued to giggle at his nonsense, he kept staring at me with the roll of his sapphire eyes. He then grinned, spotting one of the soft pillows on the bed and grabbed it. I soon felt that pillow's softness, but in a more forceful way.

"Ow!" I responded to his actions, landing on the floor from the oncoming pillow that was just thrown at me.

This time, it was his turn to laugh. He was laughing so hard he laid himself down on the bed while I stood back up.

I looked at him competitively, putting my hands on my hips.

"Did you just throw that pillow at me?" I said in a calm fashion.

He stopped laughing for the moment and looked at me, his eyes noticing my body language. "Maybe."

"Really? Is it a possibility?"

"Oh, sure, I'm a suspect… and so is the lamp," he joked.

I smiled evilly at him, bending down to grab the pillow that was still left on the floor from his attack. His smile disappeared once I stood back up with the pillow in hand.

"Although the lamp is a suspect, he is innocent. You, however, are guilty."

"Oh, dear, what a shame…" he chuckled, putting the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically in a humorous fashion. "I shall spend my time in jail…"

I threw the pillow at him, which hit him squarely on the head. This time I didn't put a book in it like the last time I decided to hit him with a pillow… many, many years ago when we first met.

After recovering from my hit, he said, "Oh… it's _so_ on…" His grin widened with his eyes full of that thriving spirit that I always adored; and among many of his smiles, this one was currently my favorite.

"You and your competitive ways, Mr. Hiller," I said.

"You and _your_ competitive ways, Ms. Phillips," he corrected, throwing the pillow back at me. I immediately picked up the pillow and tried throwing it at him again, but another pillow that was sitting on James's bed was what he decided to claim, dodging my attack. Of course, this continued on for a good five minutes. I loved seeing this side of him… when he made me smile and we were having the time of our lives.

This was quite childish to do, I have to admit. I mean, really, a _pillow_ _fight_? We were both doing very odd things now-a-days. After many tries of hitting each other constantly with the pillows, the feathers that were once stuffed inside them spread around everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. It was all over the bed, the floor, the night table to the left, and us. Of course it wasn't as if we were wearing chicken costumes, but we had lots of feathers attached to us due to the static.

He held me down on the bed while I tried desperately to get him off me. We ended up doing a bunch of play-fighting since the pillows were deflated of their feathers. His breathing was labored due to our rough housing, his chest expanding as he inhaled and exhaled.

"You don't know how attractive you look right now…" he said to me, eyeing my neck. He was tempted to kiss me again… I could see it in his eyes. As much as I was tempted as well, I couldn't let them get to me. I'm not going to turn into a love-sick fool like James would have done. I was enjoying this situation, nevertheless.

"Really?" I asked, replying to another one of his complements.

"Yes… most definitely…" Like always he couldn't contain himself, connecting lips with me after nearly three months with no contact of the sort. It's been so long since he did this, and I was starting to enjoy it to the point of thinking lustful thoughts. Thankfully I push them out at the last second.

His kiss was passionate and much more serious, as if his soul wasn't satisfied until he'll give me attention. It was absolutely hypnotizing. As much as I wanted to pull away and get out of this situation, I stayed anyway. His kissing made me feel so wonderful that I couldn't pull away from something this lovely. Soon, he trailed his lips down my neck and shivers raced all around my body, intensifying once his lips touched my chest…

Wait a minute; his lips _touching_ my _chest_?!

He was starting to get out of hand. As thrilling as this was, I couldn't let him get into any serious business. I didn't want to go down that path that I once took back in June. No. Not again.

I pulled away, and he stared at me confused. "James, please don't do this again. I know this is unbelievably thrilling, but this is too much for me."

"Like I can help it," he said quickly. He tried connecting lips with me again, but I held his head in place before his lips touched mine.

"I know you can control it," I said. "This is just another game for you. You're just after what I've got, and nothing more."

Soon those beautiful blue eyes of his hardened, his gaze blazing, his voice rising as he spoke. "Oh, so you think all of this is just a silly little game I came up with; a way to get your body? Is that it? Well, for your information Ms. Phillips I happened to have these feelings for you that run through my head everyday… And they drive me to the point of insanity.

"You don't know how much I lie in bed every night thinking of you… thinking of how those eyes sparkle when you laugh… how those red curls shine in the sun. While I have these emotions I keep reminding myself that you will always hate me, no matter how much we may get along or how much we have fun. You'll dislike me because I'm so _improper_… that I'm not worthy for you. I'm just a little fool who fell for the older woman… and it's really obvious that you don't give a damn about me.

"So, go ahead, call me obnoxious, call me an irritant; call me anything you could possibly think of at the top of your intellectual little mind, but there is one thing I will always know… is that I love you, Sarah… no matter how much of a pain in the ass you are."

I laid there on the bed, staring at him, practically in shock. What he just said was pure poetry, yet insulting at the same time, and I was at the point of tears. But tears won't solve what he just started. He was angry, and that grudge will be held for days. Not one, not two, not even three days… but much more than that.

"James, I--"

He ignored me and got off me, standing up from the soft bed and leaving the room with his shirt. It was half-way on by the time his door shut with a slam. I only stared at that door, wondering how I could make his mood change so quickly. Suddenly he was romantic and charming while he laid there with me and kissing me, and just by me saying something so small his mood changed completely.

The thing he doesn't understand is that I did have feelings for him, too… Yes, I admit it. I bet the whole world knows by now; except for him. And now that I'll be leaving in five days and he doesn't know about it, I'll be so sad that I'll never be happy again. There was still time for me to tell him, but right now I don't think this was the best time.

I wanted to embrace him, hug him, and tell him I was sorry for what I said. I wished he would have forgiven me, forgetting everything I said and just be glad that we know and care for each other. I loved it when his lips were on mine, feeling that wonderful feeling I've felt all along. I love everything about James Hiller that made him unique from all the other men I've ever met… I just wished he could see that.

--

He hasn't been talking to me. Not for the rest of the day, or the next day, or the day after that. Why wouldn't he? I was missing his words… I wanted to hear him speak to me. His behavior is changing again; first he was suddenly charming and actually appropriate, then he acted like himself again after he told me of his feelings, and now he was holding this pathetic grudge. What was wrong with him? I've been asking this question for almost six months, and I really want it answered.

On the other hand, mother is starting to chat about England again at the dinner table, and the more I hear about it the more I didn't want to go back to it. James remained quiet, calming eating his meal and not saying a word, much less glancing at me. I was picking at my food with a fork, tiredly listening to mother and her talk of oh-so-wonderful England.

"…Oh, it's always so fun at England," she said. "You'd find a lovely man to marry; we would live back in our beautiful house and live a peaceful life… Ah, those were the days."

God, will she ever stop this talk of my heritage?

She turned to me, "Sarah, are you going to eat your dinner?"

I looked at my meal, seeing that I barely touched it. "Um… not really. I'm not very hungry tonight, I guess."

"Oh…" mother said, looking concerned. "Well, alright, dear."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to go to bed early…" I said hesitantly.

Mother looked at me for a few moments of thought, as if she was wondering why I was leaving them at such short notice.

She nodded, saying, "Of course, Sarah, go ahead." I put my dish away and started upstairs, not really saying my goodnights to anyone. If I said goodnight, then I would have to say goodnight to James, fearing that he wouldn't respond as usual.

I got ready for bed with my usual routine of taking my dress off, combing my hair, and getting my night dress on. But, even though I asked to go to bed early, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of him, wanting him to say _something_ to me before I would leave him. I felt so depressed, and I wanted to hear his voice again, his tone feather-light and charming. I missed that from him, and I've been starved of it for almost four days. I'll only have the whole day tomorrow and the next morning in America until I'll leave and return to England.

I had to talk with him! I can't stand this isolation, and the more I think about this the more I become distressed and worthless. I haven't even left yet and I feel as if my heart has been ripped out of my chest. I feel heavenly when I'm near him… and I want him to see what I saw in him throughout this whole experience. He was all the things he said he was, but as annoying as those traits are I think they are a good thing. I haven't met a man like him before, because in my world he was just so rare. I was surrounded with pampered gentlemen who are successful business men and earn a good living, something my parents would most likely consider. But here I discovered that men have their own choices… and for James, it was to be himself. He didn't impress, he didn't much care about money; he was just a talented journalist who loved what he did. In his thick head his philosophy was based on what he truly believed in, not what others believed. He followed his own rules and didn't obey the others. He was a rebel, and I intend on keeping him like that.

The problem was how I was going to tell him all of this without feeling like a dunce. I was so shy about telling my feelings for him, mainly because it was particularly embarrassing for me. All I know is that I must tell him by tomorrow or else I'll never get the chance.

--

A day before I have to leave. Another day of knowing I'll never see my friends again. I blame mother for this, because it's her fault. Again she wants to go back to England where everything is just _so_ perfect. The thing she doesn't know is that I know I belong here, with the people I care for.

I put on my favorite dress, knowing how much James likes it. I know it seems dumb for me trying to impress someone, but I want him to remember something of me. As always I don't feel like dressing like some sort of princess with frilly dresses, ridiculous hairdos, and those horrible corsets.

I know James still wouldn't talk to me over something so simple, and it was hurting my feelings more than he would know. But, like I always do, I'll deal with it. I'll just keep in all my emotions because we women are the only living beings of the human race that can do that without exploding. The problem was how long my emotions would stay bottled up. As I kept thinking about it, I walked down the stairs to be greeted by mother, who looked rather happy this morning. She was probably rejoicing over the fact that England was only a ship ride away. Unlike mother, James looked peevish like he's been for the past few days, and it was starting to get very frustrating. Goodness, even when he isn't bothering me he still manages to irritate me. Sometimes I wonder how he does that.

James was about to head out the door to once again search for a new story around town, and I quickly headed out the door with him. Mother said her goodbyes to us and took out her romance novel she was reading the previous morning, getting a warm blanket in the process.

It has been getting rather chilly outside, since it was October. Fall is almost here, and the weather is becoming quite cool. Right now I missed the warm mornings of summertime, when I didn't need to put on layers of clothing just to make sure I don't perish from the lack of heat. Besides summer I also missed James talking to me… and complementing me… and flirting with me… and kissing me…

Can't he say something?! Just _one_ thing! I don't care if it's a stupid question or only one word; as long as he says something to me that's all that mattered. Maybe he just wants an apology? It's worth a shot.

"James… about what I said a few days ago--"

"Sarah, don't start feeling sympathy for me. I know you're sorry."

FINALLY!

"Well, then, why aren't you talking to me if you know I'm sorry?" I was becoming a bit agitated with him again, and I could feel an argument coming on.

After what felt like years he smiled at me. "I didn't hear you apologize."

"I was about to until you rudely interrupted me!"

"How do I know you weren't going to say something else?"

Oh great, he was trying to confuse me for the sake of his own enjoyment. James has returned.

"I wasn't going to say anything else."

"So you were going to apologize?" he asked, pretending to not know how this situation was going.

"Yes, of course."

"Well, then, get on with it, woman!" I looked at him, while he looked at me with the same distressed expression on my face. Well, at least he's talking to me, right?

"Fine. I'm sorry for what I said… and I didn't know how much it might hurt your feelings. And I also feel very depressed that you haven't talked to me for four days just because of this silly predicament."

"Well, then I am sorry myself, Ms. Phillips," James said, bowing at me in a mocking fashion. "I vow to you that it will never happen again."

"James?"

"Yes, my beautiful rose in a field of sunflowers?" As pathetic as his mocking is, his use of poetic words were dazzling.

I replied, "You're an idiot."

"Yes… Yes, I am."

I laughed, and we went on our way. And fortunately there was a story today! It just so happens that a ship crashed into the harbor because the driver was intoxicated, and for some reason men tend to be the victims of alcohol. The dock wasn't too badly damaged, but it was in desperate need of repairing anyway because the ocean waves eroded the wood away to the point when it was probably going to collapse. Not only was the dock scathed, but so was the ship that crashed into it. The ship had a large hole near the base of the ship from the fallen pieces of the dock, and it's most likely not going to sail the seas again. If the docks were a bit sturdier then it would have inflicted more deadly wounds to the ship, but thankfully it wasn't or else the driver would have gone down with it.

James and I took notes of the scene; how it got damaged, who was the driver, who got hurt and other things like that. It wasn't the most exciting news, but it was something the public would be interested in.

After getting a new story, James and I headed back to the print shop to get started on our new paper after an hour or two of taking notes on the scene. Today was going quite quickly, and I feared that would happen. I only have one day left here in Philadelphia and time is flying by so quickly.

James operated the printing press by putting on fresh prints of the story right on the paper. I loved the smell of a new article; too bad I won't smell it anymore once I leave for England. Besides everything around me in America, I would miss making articles for Dr. Franklin's Gazette. While James made the copies, I grabbed the papers already finished and put them into large piles. Each stack was about three hundred pages.

"Well, I guess it's time for me to put up the articles around town," said James, grabbing a stack.

"You mean it's time for _us_ to put up articles around town," I corrected, trying my best to pick up the stack of papers.

"Hmm…" James said, thinking. "You know… I think you should stay here. You look a bit worn out."

Me? Worn out? Nonsense. I felt fine! What was he talking about?

"I don't feel tired at all, James," I said. "I have every right to--"

"Stay here, Sarah," he interrupted, rather rudely as always. "I'll handle this round. You stay here and rest. Maybe you can do some womanly… stuff…"

I looked at him with a puzzling expression, wondering why he would consider me staying here at the print shop while he got to do all the more interesting things. Occasionally I go around with James to put up the posers back during the good old days, and I wanted this time to be one of those occasional occurrences. Did he doubt my stamina, or something along those lines?

"Why? I'd rather put up those articles then stay here and do chores," I protested.

"Isn't that what women do? Cook, clean, sweep, clean some more?"

"Eventually I'll see to it that women have their own rights…"

He smiled as he drawn closer to me and pecked a quick kiss on my cheek. "I bet you'd be the first to do so." And with that, he headed out the door, shutting the door behind him and began setting up the posters around the neighborhood.

I stood there, feeling the place where he kissed my cheek and found myself blushing. I hoped it wasn't too noticeable, because my facial expression would be the first clue that others would know that I had feelings for him. I looked over to see my mother's eyes suddenly dart back to her book when I glanced at her. She must have saw James being flirty.

After reading the last few lines, mother closed her book with a satisfied grin and looked at me. "So," she said. "He likes you."

I rolled my eyes, joining my mother on the couch. I sighed, saying, "Yes." Very short, yet very informative. It was enough to reply to.

She chuckled quietly to herself.

"What?" I questioned.

"Nothing… nothing… I'm just not very surprised," said mother. "You _are_ a lovely woman, and a very beautiful one."

She didn't know how much I already knew. He's told me on so many occasions on how much he thinks I'm beautiful… which most likely lead to my sudden attraction to him. I still felt that warm, heavenly feeling whenever I thought about him; with his wonderful smile and beautiful eyes.

"So…" said mother after a long silence. "Since you don't want to do chores like all the other women do, why don't you go pack?"

"Pack?"

"Yes, we're leaving tomorrow morning, remember?"

Oh, dear; and I wanted to forget. Of course mother would bring it up after James decided to do something charming when I would most likely be in a romantic trance. She likes to ruin those moments, doesn't she?

I immediately protested. "Mother, I'm _not_ leaving America."

"_Yes_, you are," mother said firmly. "Whether you like it or not we're leaving."

"But why must I go?" I said, starting to sound desperate and whiny. "I'm going to leave every wonderful memory I had here with James, Moses, Henri and Dr. Franklin all because England was my original home! I love it here, mother. I don't want to leave this place."

Mother sighed, which was the kind of sigh that you would hear when an adult would be talking with a persistent child. "Sarah, the reason why you're leaving is because we are planning on getting you a husband. You are ready to take on a young suitor, and going back to England would result in that."

"But I really don't want to be married right now!" I said. "I don't think I'm ready for marriage."

"Of course you are ready to be wedded," said mother. "You are of age."

"Just because I'm 'of age' doesn't mean I'm ready for this big step in my life," I retorted. "I want to stay here and have the fun while I'm still a young woman."

"Sarah, no more protesting," mother said firmly. "You are going back to England to find a suitor, live a peaceful life, and come back to America after you get settled. End of discussion."

I just stood there, my face stiff and unresponsive.

This was the final straw.

I'm not going to live like this knowing that I had a great life and a great experience in this infant country, and I intend on staying here with the people that care for me. Going back to England and leaving all of fun just seemed so… unrealistic.

Enough was enough. I'm not going to live like this.

My voice sounded bitter and full of sarcasm. "Fine. Just _fine_. I'll go back to England. I'll go back, even though America was great, I'll head back and forget everything that happened to me!

"I'll sure remember all the great times James, Moses, Henri, and I had together, but I'll go to England again where everything is just _so_ perfect! I'll find a husband, whom will probably buy something nice for me that I don't even need, and who probably won't truly love me for myself. I'll settle down in some fancy mansion, forgetting about going out and writing about the great stories that are taking place outside those cold walls. While I'm cooped up in that mansion, I'll be joining hundreds of high-class people in stiff dances that involve no fun whatsoever, as well as parties, rituals, and ceremonies. And after so many years of doing all of those things while I have returned to my homeland, I'll go back to America and find that my friends wouldn't miss me at all because I left them here after they just returned from France after nearly six months with no contact with me at all!

"Oh, yes, I'm leaving everything behind, but it's worth it, right?!"

Mother just stared at me, while that deranged look in my eyes were staring straight back at her. I don't care if I looked like a fool, because everything I said was completely correct. She was the one that wasn't respecting what I believed in.

But a thought occurred to me. It was that feeling that told me that I was being watched.

I looked at the corner of my eye to see James standing at the door, a blank yet hurtful look on his face.

Oh, isn't this just absolutely wonderful.

**A/N: **Yes!!! Finally completed!!! :D YAY!!!!! I think the next chapter is the last, but I'm not too sure yet. But, stay tuned ;)


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